Bull Fight
by dlhs8954
Summary: FAM Zorro: Just before 'My Word is My Bond' - well about four weeks before. How that 'fight' with a broomstick made Diego a hero with the town, but angry with himself. Who finds out his secret? What does he do while he's sidelined? How does he adapt?
1. Chapter 1 Chaos in the Plaza

"**BULL" FIGHT**

CHAPTER ONE – Chaos in the Plaza

It was a busy Market Day in Pueblo de Los Angeles and vendors had set up their stands all over the plaza. Many people, including quite a number of children, were everywhere. It was nearly noon. The cattle auction had begun at 11:30 a.m. and several prize bulls had already been sold.

Diego de la Vega rode up on Esperanza, dismounted, and tied her to the hitching post outside Tavern Victoria. It was his 'regular' lunch date with Sergeant Mendoza, and even though Diego knew, in all probability that no useful information would be gathered today, Mendoza was still his friend, and he enjoyed the soldier's company. Sometimes they played cards together, sometimes, the sergeant needed a friendly ear to listen to 'war' stories.

"So, Sergeant, what's new?" asked Diego de la Vega, as he joined Sergeant Mendoza at their 'regular' table by a thick pillar in the tavern.

"Oh nothing, now that the Alcalde is on a month's leave." The good-natured sergeant replied.

Victoria strode over and greeted them. "Hola, Sergeant, Don Diego. What can I get you for lunch?"

"What kind of tamales are you serving today, Senorita?" Mendoza asked.

"We have both chicken and beef tamales, Sergeant. What would you like?" replied Victoria with a smile.

"May I have some of both kinds, Senorita?" Mendoza licked his lips in anticipation of sampling both kinds. Sometimes he had a hard time making a decision as to which tamales he liked best.

"Of course, Sergeant. How about four of each?" Victoria answered, still smiling.

"That will do for starters, Senorita Victoria." Mendoza smiled back.

"And how about you, Don Diego? What would you like?" Victoria turned her attention to her best friend.

Diego returned the smile, a gracious, more 'brotherly' smile, even though his heart was pounding, because he was very near his lady love…only she didn't yet know he was her masked love.

"Arroz con Pollo, if you please, Senorita. And may I say, you are looking positively radiant today, Victoria. What's the occasion?" Diego knew why Victoria was so happy, but he wanted to see if he could get a rise out of her.

"Arroz con Pollo it is. And gracias, Diego. It isn't often you pay me compliments…and the occasion well – it is _my_ business. But – thank you for noticing, Diego." Victoria's thoughts went to last evening, after close, when Zorro had paid her a nocturnal visit, and had given her a beautiful scarf pin.

Victoria continued. "Your orders will be out shortly, senores." And she left for the kitchen to help prepare the orders.

Just off the main plaza, the weekly cattle auction was in progress. Don Alejandro de la Vega was in charge of the auction today. Several prize bulls from surrounding haciendas had already been auctioned off. He was a little nervous about the next bull, however – which belonged to his friend Don Roberto Segura.

Don Roberto had brought the bull in earlier this morning with at least six vaqueros. The bull had gotten loose the day before at the Segura ranch, and was finally dragged back into the Segura corral. It took seven vaqueros to get control. Several of Don Roberto's friends, including Don Alejandro, recommended to Segura that he butcher the animal and be done with it, saying it was _loco_ and would never be tamed enough to mate or be of use. Segura didn't listen, but decided to put it up for auction today.

It was next in line. One of Don Roberto's vaqueros had taken it out of the holding pen, and tied it to a post just outside the auction corral. He stepped away a moment to open the corral gate, when a group of children playing Soldiers and Bandits came running by. The bull seemed placid enough today. Maybe it was tired from its struggle yesterday. Alejandro hoped so.

Don Alejandro saw the loco bull and said to Don Roberto, "I see you're going to try to sell the bull instead of butcher it."

Don Roberto replied, "Si, Don Alejandro. I need to get something out of it."

"Just make sure he's securely tied, please. We don't want a repeat of yesterday at your rancho." Alejandro remembered how difficult it had been to get the bull under control the day before.

"Don't worry, Don Alejandro. My foreman knows how to take care of this bull."

"I see it is next to be auctioned. I've got to take my place as auctioneer. Remember what I said, Don Roberto."

"Si Don Alejandro."

As the group of children ran near where the bull was tied, the bull was startled and started roaring at a 'soldier' child nearest to it who had been yelling "Bang! Bang!" With two swift and hard swings of his head, he loosened himself from the post. The vaquero had turned his back for only a moment, while he opened the gate to the corral. The loosened slip knot didn't hold the bull for longer than a couple of seconds.

At that moment, a 'bandit' child picked up a rock to throw it in the direction of the 'soldier,' but missed his aim and hit the bull on the nose instead. The bull changed direction, roared, and started to charge the petrified 'bandit.' At only eight years old, the 'bandit' child, who was only about twenty feet from the bull, started running, screaming and crying for his mother. It was a miracle that the child got to his mother before the bull got to him. The frightened mother swept up her child up in her arms just as the bull raged by. The mother ran off in the opposite direction, not daring to look behind her. She was afraid the bull was chasing her, and prayed someone would do something – and soon.

The bull roared in anger and fright as he lumbered around trying to find someone or something on which to take out his anger. That contributed to the chaos and to the noise. The bull wasn't particularly coordinated or fast, which helped people get away from it. Sometimes the bull would step on a bit of the dangling rope, still tied around his horns, and that would slow it down, but after a few times, the rope broke off. That made it so the rope wasn't long enough for any kind of control – even if someone could get close enough without being gored.

Inside the tavern, Diego and the sergeant were waiting for their lunch orders to arrive, when they heard the clamor in the streets.

"What's going _on_ out there?" Sergeant Mendoza asked in alarm as both he and Diego rose from their chairs the moment they first heard the commotion.

"Maybe we'd better find _out_, Sergeant!" Diego exclaimed, as they ran outside. The other customers joined them.

The hair on the back of Diego's neck stood up when he saw the bull dashing awkwardly across the plaza in search of a target. There wasn't time for anything but response. He quickly looked around, remembering Sir Edmund's lesson of "whenever truly threatened, use any weapon at your disposal." Unfortunately, the only thing he saw – was a broom on Victoria's porch. He knew he couldn't 'swish' away the bull, but the stick end would get the bull's attention. He would be able to distract the bull until help arrived.

"Madre de Dios!" Sergeant Mendoza exclaimed. He ran towards the cuartel, supposedly to get soldiers ready to fire on the bull, should it be necessary to destroy it. That was always a last resort.

Diego yelled to the other customers. "Stay on the porch, stay out of the plaza! Don't move unless the bull comes straight at you!"

The plaza was in chaos. People were running everywhere, screaming with panic. Don Alejandro was the first to respond, and started barking orders at vaqueros.

"Get ropes! Four of you, get on horseback! The rest of you – surround the bull at a safe distance and start roping! We've got to get control of that bull!"

Once he'd given orders to the vaqueros, Alejandro ran to the garrison for the lancers – trying to get an organized response ready. On his way, he literally ran into Sergeant Mendoza.

"Sergeant! Get your lancers ready in case we have to shoot the bull!"

"Si Don Alejandro, I'll get them!" Mendoza ran into the cuartel to rally the troops.

Then, Alejandro turned around to see what had to be done next. He froze in his tracks when he saw Diego, his eyes widened in surprise. _What on earth was Diego doing_, he thought.

Diego knew there was no time to wait. He also knew that one man could do a better job of distracting the bull than several. He grabbed the broom, and ran towards the bull to distract it. He bashed it on the nose, followed by a swift bang on its rear to try to guide it back towards the corral. The bull roared and started charging him, but Diego deftly got out of the way. He'd seen some bull fights while in Madrid, and even 'played' with the wooden training bulls one day – just for the fun of it. But there was a _big_ _difference_ between a wooden bull and a _real_ one. The _real_ one didn't always respond the way you thought it would.

"Diego! What are you _doing_, Son? _Get out of the way, you'll only get hurt_!" Alejandro yelled at his son when he saw what Diego was doing. Diego ignored him and concentrated on the bull.

For ten minutes, Diego taunted the bull, distracting it until the vaqueros could rope it or until the bull tired so someone could easily capture it and guide it to the corral. That was the plan, anyway. The townspeople watched in awe. Diego's distraction worked for quite a long time. Vendors were able to move their stands and carts out of the way. The people cleared the plaza within just a few minutes. Diego de la Vega's quick thinking saved many of their stands and products – that could have easily been totally destroyed. And, everyone else had gotten out of the way, and no one was injured.

Once the vendors were cleared away, the vaqueros came with their ropes – some on horseback, some on the ground, but all were a safe distance away from Diego and the bull. Diego was the only person in the line of fire, so to speak, but his grace of movement and his agility had the townspeople, as well as some of the vaqueros – mesmerized. Alejandro stood gawking as well. The only sounds heard from the crowd were "Ole!" every time Diego evaded the bull.

His father thought to himself…_Diego is so graceful. I never knew, he always seems so_…_clumsy_…_And how he has handled himself today…distracting the bull so that the vendors and townspeople could get out of the way…his agility reminds me of someone…who?_ But his thoughts were drawn back into the action.

Finally, a group of vaqueros roped the bull with four ropes, just as Diego gave it one more stinging rap on the nose with the broomstick. The bull's head quickly snapped to one side with vicious rage. In order to keep from being roped himself from a vaquero positioned behind him, Diego sidestepped. His sidestep unfortunately put him in line with the bull's head. His horns grasped Diego's right leg in between them and with one last powerful and swift toss of the head, the bull sent Diego flying up ten feet or more into the air.

When he came down, his long legs got tangled beneath him. He landed wrong on his right foot, his boot catching a stone. It turned his whole leg at a weird angle. Then he fell on top of it, stunned a moment, with the breath knocked out of him. _Snap_! Everyone in the plaza heard the bone break at the moment of impact. Everyone and everything seemed frozen in time. The crowd watching from a distance collectively held their breath.

_What just happened here_? Diego thought to himself. He struggled to a sitting position, then fell back as he felt severe pain in his right lower leg.

"Aaaahhck!" A sharp cry escaped his lips; his breath became labored, as panic tried to take hold. He tried to pull his foot up to hold his leg, but found he couldn't move it. "_OH NO_!" he yelled. Inwardly, he screamed at himself. _Oh no! No, no, no, it can't be! Not a broken leg, no, no, no, _he thought.

All of a sudden, a flurry of activity occurred. Alejandro rushed over. His face was flushed by frustration and alarm. "Are you all right, son? What were you _thinking_? Of all the…Never mind, it's all right. You're going to be all right."

He started barking orders to whoever was around. "Vaqueros! Get that bull back in the corral! Someone get Dr. Hernandez!" To the crowd he shouted, "I need three to four men to help me get Diego up and into the tavern!" When Don Alejandro got into command mode, people obeyed. They were afraid not to. He had command presence.

He put Diego's face in his hands checking his eyes for lucidity. Diego looked him in the eye, but Alejandro could see his son was in great pain. "Fa- Father…I'm…sorry… this – can't ... be happening…"

"Diego! Diego! Listen to me. Just stay still. Don't try to move. Don't try to get up. It appears your leg is broken, so just take it easy."

Diego's breath came in short gasps as waves of pain continued to overtake him and the shock of the impact wore off. His first thought was, _Oh no! How can Zorro ride? This is not good!_

TBC


	2. Chapter 2 Bone of Contention

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the rights, or anything else. I write for pleasure, not money.

CHAPTER TWO – Bone of Contention

It took four men to pick Diego up and carry him to the tavern. Alejandro followed. Victoria asked her helpers to put three cleared off tables together, lengthwise, to make a place for Dr. Hernandez to work, while she ran upstairs to fetch some pillows. When she returned, she hovered to see how else she could help.

The men placed Diego on the three tables as gently as possible, but a sharp cry still escaped. Victoria placed a pillow under his head immediately, and a couple of pillows under his right leg. She took up position at his left side, and took his left hand in hers.

"You'll be all right, Diego," she said in as comforting a voice as she could. She could see he was in great pain. He looked at her, and let her hold his hand. He squeezed as tightly as he dared, and gave her a small smile.

Dr. Hernandez prepared to set the leg by cutting through the boot, then cutting a split in the side seam of the trousers to a few inches above the knee, and pulled the trouser leg until it was easily cut off. The lower leg was swollen and misshapen. As Dr. Hernandez carefully felt along the leg to find the break, Diego grimaced and tried to stifle painful outcries, but was only moderately successful. Hernandez found the break and loosely tied a strip of cloth to mark the place, while he laid out splint sticks and long bandage wraps in an organized fashion on a nearby table that had also been cleared.

Victoria looked at her hand in his. He squeezed it hard. "Diego, can I get you some medicinal whiskey for the pain?"

"No – no – thank you. I don't want to – to get drunk." Diego squeezed the words out.

Dr. Hernandez came up with a solution. "Diego, I could give you a bit of ether, since you showed me how to make it, just until the leg is set? You'd only be asleep a short while. Then I can give you some pain killer once you're awake, so you can make the trip home. All right?"

Diego shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll be all right. Just _do_ it. Do it and be done with it! Just warn me when you're going to do it."

Dr. Hernandez looked at him with a frown. "Are you _sure_, Diego? It's going to _hurt_…"

"It _already_ _hurts_, Doctor. Just _do_ it and get it done!" Diego grunted between gritted teeth.

"All right, here's what I'll do. I'll give you some pain potion now that I was going to give you later for the trip home." He looked at Diego, who nodded.

Diego turned his attention to Alejandro and Victoria, and looked at the serious expressions on their faces, and thought maybe a joke would be in order...

"I guess this is another example of my clumsiness, Father," he attempted to chuckle, but grimaced instead. "I should have listened to you. You asked me what I was doing. I guess I should answer – I don't _know_ what I'm doing. I was taught to use what I could find…" He broke off because a warning signal went off in his mind – he mustn't talk too much or he'll say the wrong thing and give away his secret. That was his greatest fear, besides Victoria rejecting him. His stomach also felt queasy.

Dr. Hernandez finished mixed a powdered potion for pain with water in a small bowl. "Here Diego, drink this. It will help with the pain in only a few minutes so I can set your leg, then you can go home. Victoria, would you get him a small piece of bread to eat. Diego, you need to eat a little something. You look a little green around the gills. Are you nauseous?"

Diego gulped. "Yes – somewhat. But nothing heavy, please – I couldn't eat much." He drank down the bowl of liquid. Because it had been several hours since he'd eaten anything, the potion began to take effect quickly. He had been waiting for his lunch order in the tavern when the bull got loose.

With a gentle pat on the back of the hand she'd held, Victoria released it and went into the kitchen for a small piece of bread, a glass of water, and returned within a minute. While Diego took a bite, she said, "Diego, you were so very brave today. I am very proud of you, and I know Zorro would have been very proud, too."

"_Zorro_ would have been proud?" Diego chuckled as he spoke it, shaking his head. He put a hand over his face and closed his eyes to hide his expression. _Oh, the irony of it. If she only knew_... And he chuckled again. The pain potion was also beginning to make him a bit giddy.

Victoria looked at him quizzically. She turned to the doctor. "Why is he _laughing_? I was trying to be _nice_. It wasn't meant to be _funny_." She looked at Dr. Hernandez, who gave her a reassuring look. "It's probably the pain medication, Senorita. Sometimes it has that effect on people."

Diego roused out of his stupor a moment and got serious, and put his hand down. "Thank you Doctor. I guess I couldn't set my own leg, could I?"

"You probably could have if you'd _had_ to – if you were out in the countryside. But that's what _I'm_ here for. And Diego," the doctor continued. "I understand you have something at home, a tea that you can also drink for pain?"

"Yes, I have a couple of things. And – I have a wonderful nurse by the name of Felipe to help me after I…after I – get home."

The pain medication really began to work, and it made Diego feel better, but a bit lightheaded. _Watch what you say_…kept going through his mind, but that voice was getting hard to hear. The pain was leaving and though his mind _seemed_ clear, he knew there was something not quite right in his thinking process.

At that moment, Doctor Hernandez interjected, "Diego, I'm going to set this now, are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be – do it!" He set his face in determination.

Dr. Hernandez looked at Alejandro and Victoria. "Would you two – uh – hold his shoulders down, please?" They moved to do so.

Diego let out a sharp guttural cry when the doctor pulled the leg into place. Then the kindly doctor got a wrap ready.

Dr. Hernandez enlisted the aid of Don Alejandro and Victoria in his efforts. He put one of the splint sticks to one side of Diego's leg and held it there. "Don Alejandro, could you hold this stick in place, right here?" Alejandro nodded, said nothing, but took the stick between his fingers and held it in place.

Dr. Hernandez took the other stick and placed it on the other side. "Senorita Escalante, could you hold this stick in place, please – and line it up with Don Alejandro's stick?"

"Certainly, Doctor." Victoria was glad to be of help. She hated to see Diego in such pain. She thought of the love of her life, Zorro. _Now if he'd broken his leg…he would be noble and take it like a man…he would never let on how much it hurt…_such were her thoughts.

As Alejandro and Victoria held the sticks in place, Dr. Hernandez wrapped the bandage strips around the leg and the sticks. At times, Diego grunted because the wrappings had to be pulled harder in order to be tight enough.

Diego tried to get his breathing under control. _In, out, in out_. His teeth were gritted for another couple of minutes as he endured the pain of the bone set and the split wrappings.

Dr. Hernandez gave Diego another round of painkillers for the trip home. Within a few minutes, Diego found he could relax his jaw, and his breathing quieted down. He tried to relax, and found that actually helped. With a deep sigh, he put his head back in the pillow and closed his eyes. The hard tables underneath weren't very comfortable, because they were somewhat uneven, but Diego didn't notice, except in his back.

Alejandro looked anxious. "Dr. Hernandez, what do I need to know about taking care of him?"

Doctor Hernandez replied with quiet authority. "It's a clean break, and now it's set. It should heal well. He was lucky he didn't get gored by the bull's horns…oh, he might have a bruise, or a minor scratch or two on his thigh. I didn't see anything, and his trousers weren't torn. But I don't want him walking around on the leg for at least four weeks. We'll check it at that point and see how it's doing. It might take as long as two months for total recovery. He can begin putting weight on the leg when it doesn't hurt – he can try it after two weeks. But he's strong and healthy. He might heal a bit quicker than four weeks, if he behaves himself, but that's the general beginning timetable. Most broken bones take at least six to eight weeks. Give him something for pain as he desires it. He'll be all right. He was quite the hero today, Don Alejandro."

Alejandro replied, "Yes, well, I'm going to have to go home and come back with a wagon or cart. The 'hero' rode in on Esperanza today. I'll bring Felipe back with me – that will cheer 'our hero' up. They always have so much to say to each other. I sometimes wish I could follow it better."

Diego heard the doctor through a haze of pain and pain potion. This time he spoke without thinking. "_Four weeks_! No _walking_ for _four weeks_! _Two months_ to recover! _No_! That _can't_ _be_! _No, No, No_!" Victoria took his hand in hers again and lightly squeezed it. She spoke softly and gently.

"It's all right, Diego. You can pursue your artistic endeavors full-time now for a while." She tried to be comforting, but he just kept shaking his head, and mumbled something about not being able to ride or hide, and something else she didn't understand, something 'about black.'

Diego thought, _Zorro can't hide that long. No, no, no! This can't be happening! I won't be able to ride! Zorro must be able to ride! Maybe there's something about putting on the black suit. I'll bet this wouldn't have happened if I'd been Zorro today, instead of Diego with a broomstick! What am I going to do _now_? _He remembered other times when 'Diego' seemed to get into more trouble than Zorro…like when he tried to free Felipe and Victoria from Captain Stark and his band of pirates hunting the Manlack treasure, only to be caught himself as the 'prize catch' – although Felipe was able to get away. And on the way to Devil's Fortress, the sergeant of the guard caught him off guard and landed a knockout punch – of course he couldn't fight back – his hands were literally tied behind his back. The 'interrogation' in France by tyrannical Jussac…and now – _this_!

Doctor Hernandez offered him another bowl. "Here, drink this. It will help you relax. It is a strong pain killer, and you may feel a bit drowsy." Diego resigned himself. This was going to be a longer-term thing, not just a couple of days. How he hated to think of that!

Alejandro rode home quickly and brought Felipe back in a carriage – the beaded cane four-seater. They brought extra pillows and cushions to support the leg. Alejandro felt Diego would be more comfortable and he could stretch his leg out across to the other side of the carriage as they rode home.

An hour after the bullfight, Diego was loaded up on one side of the carriage. Thankfully, Doctor Hernandez's pain medication helped Diego get home, but he still felt every bump and furrow in the road. He felt every rock the carriage wheels hit. Each bump, ditch, and rock sent a pain wave through his leg. Only on smooth road was there virtually no pain.

_It could be worse_, Diego thought. _I've got to stay focused. I can't go into shock. I'm going to be all right. It's going to be all right. I've got to stay focused_. _Just don't say anything. Answer questions if necessary, but don't offer information_. The pain and the medication clouded his thinking quite dramatically. It was an hour before they got him home and settled him on the couch in the library. They propped his leg up with several pillows and gave him a couple of pillows to put behind his head, should he want to rest. By that time, Diego was totally exhausted from the accident, from the pain medication, and from the trip home. He fell asleep quickly after only getting one pillow behind his head. Felipe placed the other pillow behind his head.

Don Alejandro watched his sleeping son. _Whatever possessed you, son, to try to be a hero? And what did you mean when you said you were taught…what was it – to use whatever weapon was at your disposal?_ He knew that Sir Edmund was thorough in his teaching, but he thought Diego a poor student in the art of fencing and self-defense. He would have to try to get some answers from his son.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3 Accommodations

CHAPTER THREE – Accommodations

Diego slept on the couch until well into the evening. He woke up with a bit of a crick in his neck from the angle his head cocked over. When he awoke, his leg hurt. Felipe brought him a tray with raw fruits, vegetables and a cold fried chicken leg.

"Felipe, could you go to the cave and get some of the cactus tea? I think there's a bit of the older batch left. It may be a couple weeks old. Smell it for spoilage. It smells bad anyway, but try to evaluate if there's spoilage. That's a totally different smell than the herb and cactus concoction."

Felipe wrinkled his nose at the thought, but went to the cave to bring Diego some cactus tea. While Diego was eating, Alejandro came into the Library.

"How is the leg now, Diego?" Alejandro pulled a chair around to face Diego.

"Felipe's just gone to get me one of my concoctions. It's one of the teas Dr. Hernandez was talking about earlier today. Right now, the leg throbs. It's very painful. It feels like it has its own heartbeat, but out of sync."

"I guess that's to be expected. Everyone I've talked to told me how heroic you were today, Diego." Alejandro looked at his son with pride.

"Was I? Or was I bamboso!" Diego looked at the floor.

"Son, I know it may feel somewhat embarrassing, but I saw you in action today. And I, for one, was very impressed. I am proud of your efforts." Alejandro tried to get the tone of his voice right, but wasn't sure it was. He honestly didn't want to make Diego angry, but it seemed like he and Diego were on different tracks of thinking.

"Of my _efforts_, Father?" Diego's eyes widened and he set his jaw.

"You did what you thought needed to be done – even though you suffered the consequences for it." Alejandro noticed Diego clenching his teeth. "I'm sorry, Son. I don't seem to be able to find the right words…"

"It's not your fault, Father. I'm on edge, in pain, and generally angry. If you don't mind, can we not talk about this anymore tonight. I'm really tired and my leg hurts a lot. I'm sorry I'm in a poor humor. I tend to get very irritable when I'm in pain, and I'm trying my best to not get any angrier right now. I'm just tired of hearing everyone say how heroic I was today, when I feel like a clumsy caballero who can't get the job done right! A true hero would have been graceful, and would have gotten out of the way without getting hurt!" Diego seethed inside, some from anger, some from pain.

"All right, son, let's not talk about it anymore. I'm sorry to upset you. I'll let you get back to your – uh – dinner." Alejandro knew a strategic retreat was in order before Diego lost his temper entirely. _I can't understand why I can't get through to him, _Alejandro thought_. I can't understand his anger. I just hope he is able to let it go and move forward_. _It won't do him any good to talk more right now. It will be better to talk about it when he's calmed down. I still have unanswered questions about today…Clumsy?…Until the end, he was so graceful…so deft, so agile…kind of like…hmmmm. _Alejandro thought.

Later, Felipe and Alejandro helped Diego to his room and get into bed. Some alterations to clothing and footwear would have to be done soon in order to accommodate the leg. Several possibilities were discussed and Diego decided to work on it first thing in the morning.

**Z**

The next morning, Felipe found Diego standing by the edge of his bed on one foot, putting on his robe. He helped Diego get into the dining room so he could eat breakfast. The doctor agreed he could sit for short periods at the dining table, if his leg was propped up. After breakfast, Diego's head jerked up as if a thought hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Felipe, take me back to my room! I forgot! You and I have to get my temporary wardrobe ready."

Felipe looked questioningly. He signed, "clothes?"

"Well I can't very well go to the pueblo or sit in the Library in my nightshirt and robe, can I? Once you get those crutches ready, I'll be able to work at the newspaper, but I have to wear _something_. And if people keep come to visit me or if I want to go outside, I've got to be decently dressed, don't I?"

Felipe nodded, then grinned and signed a joke. "What's decent?"

"Oh _you_! That's what we're going to determine. Now help me get to my room, Amigo." Diego acted like he would have boxed Felipe's ears if he had been close enough.

Z

Once in his room, Diego gave instructions as he sat on the bed, with his foot propped up on a chair on top of about four pillows that Felipe had brought over from the other side of the room.

"Felipe, could you go to the bottom drawer of the bureau? I think you'll find some of my old work pants, made similar to yours – I wore them around the rancho before I went to Madrid. I hope they still fit – although I will be surprised if they do. And bring me the oldest of my caballero pants. We'll have to split the sides up at least to the knee so I can get them on."

Felipe found two pair, one brown, one white. "Bring them over, will you? And bring over a pair of my caballero pants, so I can 'measure' the waist. That's the important thing. I have probably filled out some in the last few years, but the work pants were made to fit loose. If they don't fit, I may have to ask Father or some of the vaqueros for a couple pair of old pants they don't mind giving to me – or letting me borrow them."

Just as he was holding up one old pair waist-to-waist with a caballero pair, Alejandro entered. He'd been to check the stables and had returned – wanting to check on Diego, finding out if he needed anything. "Oh, here you are, Diego!" He saw the two pairs of old work pants spread out on the bed. "What are you up to, son?"

"Hola, Father. I'm assembling my temporary wardrobe. I was hoping my old work pants would still fit me. I can't wear my regular trousers; they won't fit over the splint wraps. I'd rather not have to split the outside seam of too many pairs of trousers, just to look presentable."

Diego frowned. The caballero pants were a good two inches larger than the older work pants. Diego knew that meant he had filled out by about four inches. He knew he'd grown a lot in height while in Spain, and he knew he had become much more muscular. He'd gone from being a slender, thin young man to a strapping full-grown man, yet still lean.

"Well, son, it doesn't look like those old work pants are going to fit. What will you do?" Alejandro stepped to the bed so he could take a closer look at the work pants. He picked up a pair and held it up, then shook his head.

"Father, do you have any old work trousers you don't want any more – you know – the baggy kind – that the waist is somewhat adjustable? I hate to buy new 'work' pants until after my leg is healed. I'm going to split the leg seam to a bit above the knee of a couple of my older dress pants – just to have something to wear to the pueblo when I work on the newspaper."

"Let me check with some of the vaqueros that are closer to your size. I may be able to scrounge up a couple of pair of 'baggy' work pants for you. Where would you wear them?"

"Around here – especially while painting or sitting outside. Actually, I'd probably wear them all the time, unless I knew company was coming. Gracias, Father. That will help a lot."

"It seems you're beginning to accept this temporary inconvenience and are willing to work with it." Alejandro gazed at his son with an expression of satisfaction.

"I'm being practical, Father. I'm still upset it happened, but what can I do? For now, I guess, I'll split the seam of my brown caballero pants and wear them today. Felipe, can you help me with that?" Diego picked up the trousers.

Felipe nodded, found a pair of scissors, and cut up the outside side seam about eighteen inches from the bottom of the trousers, to start. He helped Diego got out of his robe, nightshirt, long johns, and bed slippers. Felipe handed him a white caballero ruffled shirt, and Diego set about putting that on. Alejandro left to check with his own closet, and with his vaqueros – to see if he could scrounge up some trousers for Diego to wear that were comfortable.

Diego had to try the split-seam trousers on a couple of times before they knew how far up to cut the seam. Once the right trouser leg was split up a few inches above the knee, Diego found the trousers easier to slip on over the splints and wraps. "Well, this will do for now. Gracias Felipe. What would I do without you, Amigo?"

Felipe looked at Diego's exposed leg from his ankle to his lower thigh from the side seam split – although the lower leg below the knee was wrapped in splints. He pointed and laughed with a 'shocked' expression. "Decent?" Felipe signed.

Diego looked down and saw what Felipe was looking at. "Oh! Maybe we can make them tie from thigh to the knee – from the top of the split once I have the trousers on, yet keep it loose enough to get them on. So I'll look 'decent!' " Felipe nodded vigorously and grinned. Diego grinned back and threw one of the pillows on the bed at Felipe.

A short time later, Alejandro came back with three pairs of baggy work pants two brown, one white – donated by vaqueros to help their young patron. He left the pants on the bed.

"I need to go check in with Juan and our horses. I'll be back a little later – after you've – uh – settled on your new wardrobe choices." Alejandro smirked, turned as he left, and shook his head in wonderment.

Diego held up the baggy pants and said, "These look like they will fit well." With Felipe's help, Diego removed his split-seam brown pants, and put on the white pair. They easily fit over and covered up the splits and wrappings, and kept Diego's leg covered – and they were loose-fitting – much more comfortable. They didn't tie the ankle strings because that would be too tight.

Diego spoke what he had given thought to. "You know, Felipe, if worst came to worst, we could take a pair of Zorro's black 'easy' pants, but that would be a last resort, and we'd have to make up some sort of story about Zorro donating a pair of his trousers…and – that they just happened to fit. But – I don't think it will come to that, thank goodness." Diego was satisfied about the trousers and the 'donation' or temporary 'lending' of baggier trousers to Diego.

Felipe motioned a "Z" with a question mark. Diego sighed. "Yes, I know. Until I can sit a horse, Zorro will not be riding. Thankfully, the alcalde is gone for a while, and things have been quiet. I don't know what I'll do if Zorro is 'needed' before the leg is healed."

The next challenge was his right foot. It was swollen and didn't fit his boot, unless the boot would be cut off below the ankle. Dr. Hernandez had cut the boot off the previous day when working with the leg. The weather was warm enough now, that around the house, Diego could wear sandals. In the pueblo, he thought of wearing one boot and one sandal – or both sandals. He knew it looked funny, but he didn't want to buy just one boot at a larger size – since it was only temporary. But he would wear thin socks with his sandals so people didn't have to see his bare feet. _Or smell them_, he thought, chuckling to himself. Another option he thought of, if the need arose – was lace-up boots, like his 'lace-up' split seam trouser leg.

The third challenge of the day – crutches. After getting settled in the Library, Diego sent Felipe out looking for suitable tree branches to make crutches.

Diego thought about all this, and shook his head. _So much I've had to do to accommodate this thing…although it is only temporary… trousers, shoes, crutches – all have to be adjusted so I could function and look like a reasonably healthy adult – even if I am temporarily 'crippled.'_

TBC


	4. Chapter 4 Acclamations

CHAPTER FOUR - Acclamations

The day after the 'bull fight,' the pueblo was abuzz with the heroics of Don Diego de la Vega. The vendors whose stands and carts were saved because he distracted the bull, all decided to take a gift to him at the hacienda, finding him sitting at one edge of the couch in the library, with his leg propped up on a pile of pillows. The end table in front of the couch had been brought close to where Diego could reach it from the couch to give him a place to put a drink, a book, or a plate of food. He greeted his visitors politely. Most of the time, he was able to stand the pain, as it got a little less during the day. He did sip on his cactus tea concoction every once in a while, not enough to put him to sleep though. Only once did he have Felipe mix him some of Dr. Hernandez's pain potion.

The basket maker, Pedro, and the fruit stand owner, Enrique, came together. Enrique had filled Pedro's large basket with melons, oranges, lemons, and apples. Pedro spoke up first.

"Don Diego, we are so grateful for what you did yesterday. I was able to save all the baskets in my cart, only losing a couple that were on the ground. I was able to get my cart out of the way before the bull came charging through, because of you. Gracias, Senor. I am forever in your debt."

Diego was clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. He was used to being masked when receiving acclaim.

"Anyone would have done the same, Pedro. I'm glad your baskets are safe."

"And Senor, only a very few of my fruits were even damaged!" exclaimed Enrique. "That was a very brave thing you did – fighting that bull."

"I'm very glad your fruits survived well, Enrique," Diego's smile was still mostly sincere, but he was clearly uncomfortable. _So that's what they're calling it – a bull 'fight,'_ Diego thought. _It wasn't much of a 'fight,' more like a game of evasion – until the very last. But that's what the toreador does, doesn't he? Evade, until he decides to strike with the swords. I didn't have a toreador's cape though…or swords._

When Pedro and Enrique left, it started a steady stream of vendors for the next two hours. Most didn't stay long, but at the end, Diego had received quite a 'stash' of gifts, including baskets, hats, cravats, fruits, vegetables, boxes, vases, pottery pitchers, plates, bowls, a new blanket, and a bolt of linen.

Carlos, the linen merchant, said, "Don Diego, you are going to need crutches to be made for you in order to get around for a while. Wrap the tree branches with this linen. It will protect your underarms from any sharp edges."

Diego smiled. "Gracias Carlos. That is a very practical gift. Felipe is currently out looking for branches long enough to make crutches for me." Diego was pleased that the man thought about his practical needs.

At the end of the long procession of vendors was Victoria, bringing a covered tray.

"Diego, how _are_ you today?" She smiled and brought the tray to the end table near Diego, who cleared off a book and a glass by putting them on the floor beside him.

Diego smiled and replied with some sarcasm, "Oh, I'm all right. It looks like the whole pueblo came out to 'appreciate' their 'hero' of the day yesterday."

Victoria scowled at his sarcasm. Her tone of voice was somewhat corrective, but gentle. "Diego, they're just trying to show you how grateful they are. You really did a heroic thing yesterday. I can understand if you're not comfortable receiving the gratitude, but don't be unkind or ungrateful to others because you're upset you got hurt. After all, you're not Zorro, but you did the best _you_ could. And believe me, it was plenty good enough. I don't think even Zorro could have done better."

Diego looked away, and tried not to show how uncomfortable and angry he really was. He changed the subject quickly, and smiled his most charming smile. "So – what have _you_ brought?"

Victoria knew she'd made her point. "Well, I brought all your favorite foods…from albondigas soup, arroz con pollo, chicken empanadas, beef tamales, to vanilla flan. It's more than what you can eat at one time, but I'm sure your father and Felipe can help you."

"Thank you, Victoria. You're very kind. I guess I've had a bad attitude about all this. It's that I hate…" _watch what you say_…kept going through his mind again. He was going to say, _I hate not being able to ride as Zorro for a month…_

"What? What do you hate?"

Diego sighed. "I hate being forced to sit like this for the next four weeks!"

Victoria chuckled. "Really? That's what you're angry about? But Diego, you sit for hours and days at a time, don't you? I mean, when you're reading, or writing poetry, or art…or…whatever else it is that you do?'

_Watch what you say_…._don't get angry at Victoria. Remember, you love her. You know she's right, you just don't want her to be_, he thought. He sighed again to relieve some of the tension he felt.

"It's one thing to choose to sit, it's quite another to be forced to. I know that _you_ know what that's like. It hasn't been _that_ long since your ankle was hurt." Diego tried hard to remain pleasant, but he hadn't liked the fact she'd been right. Her statements dug in hard. The truth hurt.

"Si, it's only been a few months, but I was able to walk on it sooner. It wasn't broken, only sprained." She smiled at the memory of the cave and put unconsciously put fingers to her left ring finger, remembering what it felt like to wear her ring. She got it out every night and put it on, then had to take it off, remembering the promise she'd made Zorro not to wear it in public until after he'd taken the mask off.

Diego saw her rub her finger, and smiled to himself. "What are you thinking about, Victoria?"

The question snapped Victoria out of her reverie, but she smiled dreamily. "Oh…it is nothing."

"Really? Rubbing one's left ring finger absent-mindedly isn't 'nothing' – at least it doesn't seem so to me." Diego was watching her like a hawk, hoping to catch her in something, but he knew she was also very good at keeping a secret. This was the first time he'd ever seen a 'slip.' If someone else had seen it, they wouldn't understand what it meant. Only he did. He still wondered if it would be safe to tell her who he was, but his fear of rejection was still too strong. And, he was afraid for her safety.

Victoria folded her hands in her lap and said, "No, really, it is nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Are you telling me it's none of my business? Am I being too nosy?" Diego was feeling bold, yet somewhat teasingly_. It must be the 'buzz' I feel from the cactus tea_, he thought. _I would love for her to say something, anything, about that day_…

"Well, yes, but…I'm sorry, I can't say anymore." She looked away. Diego realized she wasn't going to say more, and decided to change the subject.

"I suppose that everyone is talking about yesterday." Diego sighed in irritation.

"Yes they are. It's only natural. It was quite out of character for you to be a man of action…so when the whole pueblo watched you fight that bull with only a broomstick, you have to expect that people will talk."

"Out of character? You forgot about the siege last year. I'll have it known I rescued a child, my father, _YOU_, _and_ Sergeant Mendoza when the outlaws first rode into the pueblo."

"Yes, Diego, you saved the little boy and shoved the rest of us out of the way, but did nothing to fight them."

"Yes, I did. You just didn't see me." Diego was buzzed and his tongue was loosened…to a point.

"_Really_? And when was that?" Victoria was skeptical.

"Actually, I took care of two bandidos at once! I jumped…" Diego said with pride. _Watch what you say_…_Remember you made sure no one saw you jump off the roof, in Zorro-like fashion, then delivered a knock-out punch – so don't tell it now. She could put some things together, then you'll be in real trouble_.

"Uh – I think – I'll have some of my favorite soup now. Really, thank you Victoria – for making all my favorite foods. I'm sorry I got a little testy."

"What are friends for, Diego, if not to bring comfort and help in time of need?"

To her face, Diego smiled. In his mind he thought, _Ah Victoria, I want to be so much more than your friend. I want to be your husband, your mate, your lover. Soon, I hope_…

After supper, when the day's work was done, Alejandro went to the library for a talk. Diego was reading a book. Felipe had brought in a long tree branch about five and a half feet long. Felipe signed he had found two such branches, but would finish one first to get the correct length. The doctor said he should not try to stand on it for two days. Alejandro and Felipe helped him get to the Library that morning, and would get him to bed that evening as well. When he 'walked,' he had to put all his weight on his left leg, holding his right foot off the floor, by bending his knee. Until his crutches were ready, Diego had to rely on other people to help him get from place to place. He could hop around a smaller room, but he soon discovered that it wasn't as easy to do that as he first thought it would be. And there was no way he could hop from the Library to his bedroom. That was way too far.

"How is your leg this evening, son?" Alejandro pulled up a chair towards the couch so he could sit facing Diego.

Trying not to sound flippant, but not succeeding, Diego replied, "How do you _think_ I am, Father? It still hurts. It hurts a _lot_." Then, realizing his bad mood, he immediately softened his tone. "I'm sorry, Father. I'm still very frustrated by this, in more ways than one."

"I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean to antagonize you. I really didn't. I know you still have pain. Is there anything I can get you?" Alejandro said as gently as he could.

"No, gracias, Father. I'm sorry; my mood is quite foul tonight. I'll probably be going to bed soon. You'll have to help me. Felipe is still working on a set of crutches."

"I can understand your frustration, son. And of course Felipe and I will help you get to bed when you're ready." Alejandro paused a moment, then changed the subject. "I heard you had a steady stream of visitors today."

Diego sighed and his tension towards his father left. "Yes, it seems all the vendors in the marketplace yesterday had to come and show their appreciation. I've got quite a 'stash' of gifts now – although the food gifts have already been taken to the kitchen – and I ate some of them. Victoria made all my favorite foods."

Alejandro perused the stash and nodded his head. "It seems my son is well liked in the pueblo."

"There is one very practical gift I can use immediately – well – as soon as Felipe gets my crutches ready. Carlos, the linen merchant, brought me a bolt of linen to be used to wrap the crutches to help my underarms." He pointed to the bolt of linen that was lying just separate from the rest of the stash.

"That was very generous of him. Now, son, maybe you can tell me why you thought _you_ were the one who had to deal with the bull yesterday?" Alejandro folded his arms.

Diego shifted a bit on the couch and frowned. Even though he didn't want it – his tone was sarcastic. "Well, Father, you've always wanted me to be a 'man of action' – so yesterday – I tried to be... I saw what you were doing, and I knew eventually that would be helpful. But I also knew there wasn't enough time to get the vendors out of the way – before they were either injured or their stands destroyed."

He paused a moment. "I felt if I could distract the bull a few minutes, everything would be all right. I was wrong, and I misjudged where the vaqueros were throwing their ropes. Eventually, I guess I went right when I should have gone left." Diego felt a 'buzz' around him, and he heard that little voice again…_be careful what you say. Watch your words_. The cactus tea he'd been sipping on about 15 minutes ago was beginning to take effect. As long as Diego was asleep, he didn't feel pain. It was the getting comfortable in bed that sometimes took a while – so he took some painkillers just before Alejandro came into the room, because he intended to go to bed soon. He knew it was only a matter of time…

"No doubt, _Zorro_ would have done a back flip and landed on his feet, but clumsy Diego…" he spat out the words. "…_clumsy Diego breaks his leg_! Aaarghh! What _is_ it about wearing black…? Sorry…" He put a hand to his head and gritted his teeth.

Alejandro looked at Diego with narrowed eyes. He couldn't understand Diego's outburst. "What do you _mean_, Diego? It doesn't really matter what Zorro would have done. You, Diego, _you_ were the hero of the day yesterday. _You_, Diego. The vendors brought the gifts to _you_, not to Zorro! And I – I want you to know that despite your injury – I – am – _very proud_ of you for your efforts. You really _did_ save the day yesterday! You were magnificent – until the bull got you. I venture to say that even Zorro couldn't have done any better!"

Diego didn't move. The only sign he was breathing was that his head kept shaking underneath his hand. Now Alejandro was getting frustrated.

"Son, it's not about you being sorry it happened, or feeling sorry you got hurt. I'm trying to understand you. I'm trying to make an effort here. I've not been happy with the way our relationship has been for a long time. I'd like to try to amend things, if possible. Can you tell me _why_ you are feeling _so_ _angry_ at yourself?"

Diego was getting very tired and very sleepy. "I'm sorry, Father. I seem to be fading fast. Maybe we can talk tomorrow when my head is clearer."

"All right son. Let's get you to bed." Alejandro got on one side of him, Felipe on the other, and between the three of them, got Diego to bed. Within a minute, Diego was fast asleep, the painkillers were working.

Alejandro stayed a moment, watching, shaking his head. He didn't seem to understand Diego at all. _I probably should never have compared him to Zorro, because now he is comparing himself. That's not going to help him_. _He _was_ magnificent yesterday for a while – until_…_oh stop it Alejandro! Maybe if _I_ stop comparing him to Zorro, _he_ can stop comparing himself. _Alejandro got a niggling feeling about some things…things he didn't understand and couldn't seem to get through to discuss it with Diego. _Madre de Dios, how can I get through to him_, he thought?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5 Secret Revealed

CHAPTER FIVE – Secret Revealed

Early the next morning, the second day after the bull fight, Felipe checked on Diego. He had brought in more of Diego's tea concoction and powders from Dr. Hernandez. He checked Diego's forehead. It was warm, but not hot. _That's a good sign. No fever, no infection, _thought Felipe_. It will be hard for him these next few weeks, but I'll help him get through it. Dios, let Zorro not be needed, because he can't be there_.

Diego woke up and sensed Felipe was in the room. He struggled to get to a sitting position, but immediately yelped from the pain, so he slid back. Felipe was immediately at his side, signing "all right?"

"Yes, Felipe, I'm all right. I just forgot for a second that I have to be careful how I move." Felipe pointed to the leg. "Yes, it still hurts quite a bit, but only when I move it – most of the time. At other times, it doesn't hurt at all."

Felipe signed, 'get some tea' and pointed to himself, then to Diego. "Si, I could drink a little tea, and have some for sipping when needed. Thank you, Felipe. You make a wonderful nurse, but more than that…the best friend a man ever had! I appreciate all your help. We share each other's secrets. I trust you with my life. You know that, Amigo." Diego forced a true smile from his lips, hoping it didn't look like a grimace. Felipe smiled back and signed 'crutches.'

"Yes, today, I can try out those crutches you're making for me. Gracias, I'll feel a little better when I can get up and around by myself." Diego smiled while Felipe put together a mixture of painkillers for Diego.

"Hopefully I won't need much of those today. Really, most of the time it only hurts when I move it," Diego nodded towards what Felipe was doing. Felipe nodded and grinned.

Diego remarked, "Those things really scramble my brain. I've had to be so careful what I said. It's hard to think clearly sometimes. I won't be drinking very much of the cactus tea today, either – I'll only sip as needed. As long as I sit without moving the leg too much, it doesn't hurt – hardly at all."

Felipe signed a 'Z' and looked questioningly.

"Yes, well, it looks like _Zorro_ has time off whether he wants it or not. I just hope De Soto doesn't come back too early from his month-long leave. By the time he gets back, I should just about be able to sit a horse…in case he acts up, and Zorro needs to make some kind of an appearance." Diego sighed. "Sometimes it's nice to have a 'vacation, but not this way. Even when I was on vacation a couple years ago, 'Le Renard' was _not_ on vacation. But this time, until I can ride a horse, we'll have to believe that no bandidos will strike the pueblo. Every once in a while we get a taste of what life without Zorro would be like."

Felipe grinned and signed 'we?'

"Yes, 'we.' You and me. I couldn't do this without you, mi Amigo. Now, help me get up and out to the Library so you can finish those crutches. And I – can start 'walking' around…or should I say, 'hobbling' around."

Once in the library, Diego picked up the new book he had just received. It was in English. Diego read books from several different languages…Spanish, of course – that was his native tongue…French, and English. He also felt, if necessary, he could learn Italian, because he knew that it was similar to Spanish, but he hadn't gotten around to that yet. He knew some Greek… for reading some of the old classics like Homer's, _the_ _Iliad_ and _the_ _Odyssey_. He also knew some Latin, for botanical and scientific proper names, and for Catholic Mass.

The new book was Sir Walter Scott's _Ivanhoe_. Scott was an English knight who was quickly becoming a prolific writer, publishing several new novels each year. _Ivanhoe_ was released in 1819, and Diego had heard from Father Benites that he and its hero had a lot in common. They both had problematic relationships with their fathers. He could hardly wait to get started. But his English was somewhat slow, so he knew it was going to take him awhile. Shakespeare also provided good practice in English. He had some of the plays and some of the poetry. He had memorized a lot of the verses.

Over and over in his mind, Diego tried to make some sense of what had happened. _Everything was going well until that last lasso was thrown. The vaquero was slightly off target and the rope would have lassoed _me_ if I hadn't gotten out of its way. I couldn't allow myself to be roped – the raging bull would have gored me for sure, possibly killing me – or at the very least, maiming me for life. I _had_ to move out of the way. All things considered, I know I was incredibly fortunate something worse did not occur. I know I will totally recover. It will be awhile, and that's what I'm not looking forward to. I am grateful it wasn't worse, but I am still very upset that it happened at all. I feel like I really have become the clumsy caballero everyone thinks I already am. I know they see me as a hero, right now, and I guess I am. I'm just not used to getting this attention as 'me,' I guess…now if only I'd had the presence of mind to have Zorro's things in the pueblo that day. _Diego didn't realize he had contradiction in his thought processes…

He picked up _Ivanhoe_ and started to read. It was slow moving at first – he had to get used to how the English language said things backwards. It was interesting though. He couldn't wait to actually read about Wilfred of Ivanhoe, the knight who went against his father and supported King Richard the Lion-hearted in the Third Crusade.

**Z**

Around 10:00 a.m., Doctor Hernandez knocked on the door. Felipe showed him in and the doctor sat in the Library, in a chair Felipe had pulled up so that the Doctor could face Diego's leg. Felipe left the room to give them privacy. Since Diego was facing the entryway, his right leg was right where Hernandez could easily check it without having to reach over the other leg.

"How is your leg today, Diego? I came to see how the splints and wraps were doing. Have they slipped at all?" Dr. Hernandez opened up his doctor's bag to make sure he had everything he needed.

"I don't think so, but they might have. You would know better than me." Diego watched the doctor do a visual check of his leg first.

"And how is the pain level? Are you managing?" Hernandez's eyes went up and down the leg.

"The pain level is manageable, Doctor. Gracias. I abhor painkillers, and have tried to keep them at a minimum. They….make it hard to think clearly. Usually there's only pain when I forget and I move…then I'm sharply reminded. I do try to keep the leg still though…except when I _have_ to move it."

Next, Doctor Hernandez checked the splints and wraps with his fingers. A couple of the wraps had loosened a bit. When he tightened them, Diego gasped a few times with surprise pain.

"Like I said, Doctor, only when it moves…" He grimaced and let out a breath.

"I see you've taken care of the wardrobe challenge quite successfully." Diego was wearing a pair of his split-seam lace-up caballero pants today with socks and sandals.

Diego chuckled. "Yes, well…we've worked out a couple of options for both trousers and footwear."

"You know Diego, you _really did_ a _wonderfully_ _heroic_ thing the other day. The little eight-year boy, Cesar Garcia, the boy who threw the rock that hit the bull, causing him to stampede – I talked with his mother yesterday. She is so thankful that you distracted the bull. She was able to get Cesar out of the bull's way – and your distractions kept it from finding little Cesar again. She wanted to let you know how grateful she is." Dr. Hernandez looked earnestly at Diego. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Diego?"

Diego had a faraway look in his eyes. He hadn't seen little Cesar. _That must have happened before I got outside_, he thought. His attention came quickly back to the present, and he shook his head as if to clear it. "Yes, Doctor. I do understand. I know…I know…" His thoughts took him far away to other children he'd rescued from time to time as Zorro.

"Diego." Hernandez tried to get Diego's attention. "Diego? Do you have any questions? You seemed really upset the other day about how long this was going to take."

Diego's attention again snapped back to Dr. Hernandez. "What? Oh – questions. Yes, I have one. Are you _sure_ about length of time it takes to heal from this?"

"Well, given your excellent physical condition, I'd say four weeks is a fairly accurate assessment of your healing capability. Like I said the other day, it usually takes six to eight weeks for this kind of fracture to heal. Do you have any _other_ questions?"

"Doctor, when can I stand and put weight on it again? I forgot what you said." Diego was concentrating this time.

"I'd keep your weight off it this week. Try to put some weight on it next week, for short periods. If it's too much pain to handle, it's not healed enough yet. Try a few days later, until the pain is manageable when you stand. I wouldn't worry. Relax. Enjoy the time you have. You've healed from your other injuries much faster than most other people do."

Diego looked puzzled. "_Other_ injuries? What are you talking about?"

Hernandez looked at him with a knowing and penetrating gaze. "You know very well what I'm talking about."

Diego purposely looked blank and innocent. "No, Doctor, I don't. What are you saying?"

"Diego, I heard you deride yourself the other day when Victoria made the comment about Zorro. You laughed. It was a totally inappropriate response – unless you _are_ – Zorro."

Diego looked around the room and craned his neck to look into the hallway. He gulped and looked at the doctor with wide eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

Now it was the doctor's turn to chuckle. "Oh Diego, Diego. You can trust me. I've known for quite some time who you are. Your secret is safe with me. I would never tell anyone. Doctors keep confidences, you know. We have to."

Diego's jaw dropped to the floor. _Good grief! Doctor Hernandez knows! How did I give away my secret_, Diego thought. With his mind half-clouded by cactus tea and the shock of Doctor Hernandez's confession, Diego's mind was in a whirl.

"Doctor…I – I – d –do – don't know what to say…" Diego stuttered.

"There's nothing to say, my boy. But I know that you don't come to me as often as you probably should have. I want you to know that you can come to me anytime. I wanted to let you know you have an ally in me. Sometimes, as a doctor, all I can do is patch things up when I'd like to help you more in your fight for justice. I know this is probably a big shock for you to have me just tell you that I know, but I wanted you to know that I know – in case you ever need me – I want to be there for you. And again I say, your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone."

Recovering his wit, only _half_-jokingly, he said, with a half-crack smile, "If you _did_ tell anyone, I'd have to _kill_ you." He chuckled to show the doctor he didn't mean it…and yet, on one level, he sort of did.

"Doctor, if you don't mind me asking, _how_ did you know? How did you figure it out? I know I never said anything." Diego's mind was still whirling a bit.

"Oh, I don't know. Things didn't add up. I think it was probably your concussion that showed me something was wrong. All your life, I've never known you to be anything but an excellent horseman. So when you had that serious concussion a few years back from falling off a mare…well I knew you were hiding something. I'd heard about Zorro's fall into Cayon Perdido. When I saw your injuries, I knew something wasn't right. You weren't telling me the truth. And anyone with any intelligence knows that Zorro didn't appear until after you'd come back from Spain. And the people Zorro first rescued – your father, and Senorita Escalante. It added up."

Diego's expression still registered shock, but he managed to say, "You must be very careful, Doctor. The safety of Zorro and the people of the pueblo is now also in your hands. And…I promise to send for you if I need your help. And Doctor, thank you for keeping the secret. You're still saying four weeks, huh?"

Hernandez chuckled again. "Yes. But I'm glad we understand each other. Behave yourself, or you'll have a take a permanent vacation from riding…" now the Doctor looked around to make sure no one was listening. "…your big, black horse."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6 Secret Revealed Again

CHAPTER SIX – Secret Revealed Again

In the late morning, there was a knock on the door. Felipe jumped up and answered the door. It was Padre Benites. Diego was situated on the couch with his leg stretched out and propped up about twelve inches on a stack of pillows. He had been reading the new novel in English by Sir Walter Scott, _Ivanhoe_, recommended to him by Benites, but was now dozing, the book in his lap. He enjoyed reading _Ivanhoe_, and could readily identify with the hero – since both had problems with their fathers. Both fathers disapproved of their sons' activities, and Diego could hardly wait to see what happened to the 12th century young knight.

As Felipe opened the door, the padre said, "Hello, Felipe! How are you today? I suppose you can guess the purpose of my visit. I am here to see Don Diego, if possible."

Felipe signed "Library" and pointed in that direction. As Benites rounded the corner, he spotted Diego on the couch – the book he was reading lay in his lap. His head was cocked to one side, the upright back side of the couch.

Benites noticed the book with a smile, then turned to Felipe and whispered, "Is it all right if I wake him?" Felipe nodded and pulled up a chair for the padre to sit, then gently shook Diego.

"Oh Felipe, what time is it? I must have dozed off," Diego asked as he began to move around and wipe his eyes. He started to stretch and found a crick in his neck to rub. As Felipe was standing in front of Diego, his view of Father Benites was blocked.

"How are you, my son?" Diego was startled a bit at hearing the padre's voice. Felipe signed "Padre Benites" then left.

"Oh – Hello, Father Benites. It's good to see you." Diego smiled his warmest smile.

Benites answered, "It's good to see you, too, Diego. How are you feeling today?"

"As long as I don't move it, it's not too bad," was the answer. "Felipe is working on a set of crutches for me so I can move around."

"That will be very helpful, very helpful indeed. I see you took my suggestion and are reading _Ivanhoe_."

"Yes, thank you Padre. It's slow going, but you're right. Wilfred of Ivanhoe and I do have a lot in common." Diego took the book from his lap and put it on the end table near him.

The padre leaned forward in his chair. "Diego, I was speaking with both Doctor Hernandez and Victoria yesterday. They are concerned about you…how you're taking all this." Benites' expression exuded the warmth and caring everyone came to expect from him.

"How I'm _taking_ all this? What do you mean?" Diego was somewhat irritated. He knew what the padre meant, but he was stalling, and hoping to deflect. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk about his anger towards himself. He squirmed on the couch and grimaced when his leg inadvertently moved.

"Yes, my son…how are you accepting what happened?" Benites waited for an answer, but it never came. Diego looked at the floor.

"Do you mind if I tell you what I think? You seem agitated, somewhat irritable. Do you blame yourself for your injury?" Benites leaned forward and put a hand on Diego's arm for a moment, then withdrew it.

"_Blame_ myself? Of _course_ I _blame_ myself!" Diego clenched his fist. It took all his self-control not to sock himself in the leg to cause himself more pain. His anger was that deep.

Benites was somewhat taken aback by the ferocity of the response. He had expected some self-derision, but the degree to Diego's anger surprised him.

"Why? It was an accident, wasn't it? You didn't get hurt on purpose, did you? I can't imagine that. What you did was heroic! How can you be upset about that? What is _really_ bothering you, Diego? You know it will go no further."

Diego sighed and looked down. "Well Padre, I just feel like…it's kind of hard to explain. It's just that Zorro is graceful, and I seem so clumsy. It's as if, because he wears black and carries a whip and sword, that he can do so much more…while I – armed only with a broom – get a broken leg! It just doesn't seem fair! It seems like…"

Father Benites interrupted. "It seems like you're comparing yourself to Zorro. Why _is_ that, Diego? Why do you do that?" Benites sat back in his chair and studied Diego's expressions and responses.

Diego continued to look down a moment longer, then looked up and directly into Benites' eyes. "I know. I probably shouldn't. But my Father and Senorita Escalante have compared me to Zorro for years. I guess it's hard not to. Father Benites, even though I know you hold things in strict confidence, there are some things I cannot talk about. I can only say that it seems that whenever Don Diego gets into trouble, it seems worse than when Zorro gets into trouble."

"Really? Tell me some instances – of both you and Zorro. Tell me what you mean," the stocky padre's voice was soothing and kind, but questioning.

"I can address what I'm talking about only in regards to myself, Father. When I tried to rescue Felipe and Victoria, uh, Senorita Escalante, from pirates a couple years ago, _I_ got taken prisoner. When I tried going to Devil's Fortress to help Victoria's father, I got… uh…oh…never mind." The voice inside him said again – _watch what you say_. He was thinking about that knockout blow again and why it was given him. "I also got into trouble when I visited France a few years ago. It just seems like whenever _I_ try to do something…oh I don't know...and now _this_ happened!" Diego growled in frustration. He didn't know what else he could say without revealing more than he should.

Benites asked, "And Zorro? I'm sure he has been seriously hurt more than once."

"He's probably had a few things…But I don't know any specifics." _Watch what you say_… Diego tried to think what things were public knowledge. He couldn't think of anything he would know about if he weren't Zorro. The public didn't know he was injured in Cayon Perdido. They thought he was dead, but he turned up very much alive, and they were none the wiser. The public didn't know he was hypnotized by that Dr. Lorenzo Lozano. The public didn't know he'd been stabbed in the leg with De Soto's sword – only De Soto and his lancers know that. The public 'heard' that Zorro "was a dead man" when Palomarez poisoned him – but none knew what that meant. They never saw Zorro ill at that time, only Diego, if they'd been watching closely – but no one knew, except Felipe, what had really happened.

Benites was quiet a moment as he listened to Diego. He knew there was anguish in Diego's soul or there wouldn't be so much frustration and anger.

"Diego, are you envious of Zorro's accomplishments? It would be only natural."

Diego thought a moment before responding. "I don't know. Maybe I am a little."

Benites leaned forward again in the chair. "Diego, I'm not going to give you a homily, but I want you to listen to me…_really_ listen to me. Can you do that?" Benites looked Diego straight in the eye.

Diego returned the gaze a moment, then looked down again. Another moment of silence passed, as Diego thought about it. "I'll try," came the response.

"Good. It is never to your benefit to compare yourself to Zorro – or to anyone else, for that matter. The fact that others have done so has not helped you. I think I can understand why they do it, but it is not helpful. I believe they wanted to change the way you are…uh, the way you presented yourself. But you cannot compare yourself _to_ yourself – as if you were two different people, when in fact, you are one."

"But, but, but….I – I …" Diego tried to get a word in, but the padre kept on talking. His eyes opened wide and he looked around furtively, then thought he'd physically try to shut the padre up. He threw his hand out, but it wasn't far enough. As he reached, his leg moved, and he groaned when he tried to move his leg.

Benites kept talking. "I am sworn to silence, but you need to make peace with yourself in order to move forward. And I know some serious things have happened to Zorro – even more than have 'happened' to _you_, Diego. I am an observer of life and people. I see things many others do not."

Diego's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Benites told him he knew the secret. He gulped and was clearly in a state of shock. He looked like the cat that ate the canary and got caught red-handed at it.

"How long have you known?" Diego tried to keep his panic out of his voice.

"Oh, I can't say for certain. Things just kind of came together in my mind. As you know, I met 'Zorro' before I met _you_, Diego – and even though you did your best to show me you were two different people…well, I have been trained to listen and to observe. I also have a sort of gift that shows me people's hearts. One day when I was praying for you, _Zorro_ came to mind. Another time when I was praying for Zorro, _you_ came to mind. I had a mental picture of you with a great burden, and yet it was hidden under a black cloak. So, I listened to what I believed the Lord was saying to me."

"And what is He saying now, Padre?"

"My son, whether you do a good deed as Diego or Zorro, the Father sees, and He is behind your fight for justice, because He Himself is a God of Justice…tempered with mercy. If you were truly the Diego you pretend to be, you would virtually never get hurt, because you would never take that chance. But since you _are_ Zorro – you can't help it. When help is needed, you're going to step in. It's your nature, and it's how God made you, Diego." Benites looked beyond Diego's eyes, into his heart. "But tell me, what are _you_ thinking and feeling now?"

Diego was listening. His eyes were somewhat glazed from staring at the floor. In his mind's eye, all sorts of things came to mind, until they settled on a pleasant older 'man' in a white suit with blue trim, and red boots. He was quiet a moment, as if still in deep thought, wondering if he should share what he was thinking. "Father, I believe God _does_ approve of what I'm doing. Did I ever tell you I believe an angel visited me a couple of years ago?" Diego unconsciously rubbed his leg, more out of nervousness than pain.

Now it was Benites' turn for wide eyes. "No, you didn't. What happened?"

"It's a long story, but a man, well, he looked like a man, but he could come and go at will – named Don Fernando – came to give me encouragement and strength to go on when I was thinking of quitting."

"You never told me that before."

"I've never told anyone – not even Felipe. It was all very strange and surreal. Was Don Fernando an angel? He knew everything about me and caused certain 'events' to occur…but maybe it was a vision. It was very real, though."

"I cannot judge that, Diego, but it certainly sounds like he was. Angels from God always bring messages of hope, and he certainly brought that. Angels from God will always tell you things that _don't exist_ as though they _do_, rather than things that _are already known or exist_ as if they _don't – as if they were not known_."

"Oh! I think I know what you mean. When Myatana and Ricardo Quintana were here… she told things that _were known_, as if they _were not known_ – they were being fed information from the Alcalde. They invented or created what they said based on information already known…whereas a _real_ angel, an angel from God, would say something only God knew. I know I was certainly unnerved when Don Fernando just blurted out to my face he knew I was Zorro – because that's _not_ a widely known fact."

"The Quintanas were actually pulling a 'confidence game' – I believe is what they call it. But there are people with gifts similar to mine – only they don't rely on God for their information. They receive 'real' messages, but not from a good spirit – they are true mediums, such as the medium of En Dor in the Bible, I Samuel 28, whom King Saul contacted in an attempt to save his kingdom. In this case, God wanted to show Saul he had again done the wrong thing and this time, he would pay for it with his life. But _most_ of the time, the information they receive is already known – yet is told as if it was not known. An example would be if someone told you that you had a shipboard journey in your future, when you had already purchased a berth at San Pedro – as if the trip hadn't been planned yet."

Diego was silent. He could think of nothing to say. Spiritual matters were a bit out of his educational sphere. Things were rolling around in his head, and he was trying to make sense out of what Benites said.

"Diego…I must go now, but I want to say one more thing, if that's all right with you." Benites leaned forward in his chair.

"Certainly, Padre."

"Diego, I understand that you must keep up appearances in this masquerade of yours. Just make sure you're that you don't self-deprecate to the point where you _actually_ _believe_ what you're saying about yourself, all right?"

"All right, I'll try."

"May I pray God's blessings on you, my son?"

"Certainly, Padre. I always feel more peaceful after you pray."

Benites rose and placed one hand on Diego's bowed head, the other on Diego's broken leg. "Father in heaven, I ask You to heal Diego's leg quickly, and give him the help he needs to reconcile within himself – who he is and who You have created him to be. Give him wisdom and strength as he moves through this trying time and may his sense of humor give him perspective. En nomini patri, et filli, et spiritus sanctu." Benites crossed Diego, then himself.

Diego felt peace come. _It's going to be all right_, he thought. _I'll get through this and be better than ever._ He looked up and smiled, and shook Benites' hand before the kindly padre left.

_And yet_…he thought…_ another person now knows my secret. When will this end? Does everyone know but they're not telling me? Well, at least the Alcalde doesn't know. If he did, I wouldn't be free. But I don't know if I can keep up this charade much longer. Father and Victoria don't seem to know. If they did, I don't think they would make such scathing remarks to me, comparing me to Zorro constantly. _Those remarks hurt, and Diego felt trapped in this masquerade and didn't know how to free himself.

TBC

-6-


	7. Chapter 7 Practical Inventions

CHAPTER SEVEN – Practical Inventions

Later that afternoon, Felipe came in with the crutches he'd made. He had wrapped them in the linen that Carlos, the linen merchant had brought for that very purpose. It cushioned the underarms so that they wouldn't get too sore. Diego tried them out, but some adjustments had to be made. After sawing off another half inch from each crutch, and sanding the edges until they were smooth and somewhat rounded – but with a flat surface – Diego tried them again. A perfect fit. Felipe used the remnants of the linen to wrap around the wooden edge to create a buffer between the wooden crutch and the marble or carpet floor.

_Now, I can get around when I need to, without asking for Felipe and Father to help me all the time_, he thought. Now that he could at least move from room to room on the crutches, his mood did lighten up a bit, as he got used to clunking around on them throughout the house. He knew he had to make sure he wasn't on his left leg too long at one time, so he wouldn't overwork it, but he still needed to exercise it. As soon as his broken leg was well, he would need to get back in shape – in case Zorro would be needed, and on general principles.

After dinner, Felipe went to the cave to work with Toronado. Alejandro came in to have another talk with Diego, hoping he could get some answers to a few questions that had been bothering him. He hoped Diego would be in the mood to talk. Now that Diego had crutches, Alejandro hoped his son would be in a better humor. He found Diego in the Library reading _Ivanhoe_.

"You seem to be enjoying that book, Diego. Would you like to take a break from reading? Are you up for a game of chess?" Alejandro asked.

"Not tonight, Father. Felipe and I played half the afternoon. He still beats me three times out of four. He's an amazing chess genius." Diego placed his bookmark in the book, then put the book on his lap.

"Son, may I ask you something?" Alejandro used the least provocative tone of voice he possessed.

"Certainly." Diego turned his full attention to his father.

"The day of the – uh – incident – you said something that made me curious. You said that Sir Edmund had taught you to use whatever you could find as a weapon, when threatened. Something like that? What I want to know is how did you remember that? You don't seem have remembered any _other_ fighting or self-defense strategies. I'm just curious. I don't want to upset you. I know this is hard on you."

Diego bristled a bit while his father talked. He wasn't sure how much or what to tell Alejandro. He wasn't concentrating or paying attention. All he heard was the 'remember' part. "Sorry, how did I remember _what_, Father?"

"How did you remember what Sir Edmund said about being threatened?"

Diego thought a moment again, before responding. _Watch what you say_… "Oh, I don't know. I can't explain it. Maybe it was because it was an emergency situation. It just came to mind, and I acted on it. It was a crisis, and I knew something had to be done."

"I don't want to irritate or upset you, but some things just don't make sense to me, Son."

Diego bristled and fidgeted. He thought, _how can I deflect this? I guess I'll just have to go along and see what he's thinking. Maybe something will come up and I'll be able to deflect any suspicions. I don't feel ready to share my secret yet. I want to do it on my terms. Already two people have told me they know. I've got to shut things down. I can't let things get out of hand like this_.

Out loud, he asked, as calmly as he could, "What things, Father?"

Alejandro could see his son was uncomfortable, and he suspected it wasn't all due to physical discomfort.

"For one thing, I'd like to continue the conversation we started the other evening, when you were tired. It seems to me you are very angry with yourself for what happened. Can you explain this to me – this anger – towards yourself for being hurt?"

_Ah, so that's his curiosity – whew – that's what this is about_, thought Diego. _I think I might have an answer for that, now that I've talked with Padre Benites_.

"You know, Father, until Padre Benites visited me earlier today, I don't know if I could have told you without stirring up a lot of negative emotions. The padre helped me to realize that I need to be who I _am_ – not who I think I _should_ be. He said I was comparing myself to Zorro, and I suppose I was…"

Diego paused a moment, trying to gauge Alejandro's expression. Alejandro responded.

"You aren't the only one, son. I too have been guilty of comparing you to Zorro. I thought that if you could model yourself after someone, it would be him. But I'm beginning to see that may not have been helpful…you said you had a talk with Padre Benites today. Does that mean you are no longer angry at yourself for this accident?"

Diego's head moved from side to side. "Let's just say that at least I have a beginning to an understanding about my feelings that I didn't have yesterday."

"That's good, son, that's good. May I ask you another question? "

"Certainly, Father."

"Diego, all your life, you have never been clumsy. You have always been very graceful, even your walk is smooth. You seem to glide. Why then, would you call yourself clumsy? I watched you the other day. You were anything _but_ clumsy. You moved with a gracefulness I haven't seen in a long time. The way you avoided the bull for all that time…what are you doing Diego? Why do you try to hide your agility?"

Diego gulped. "Well, Father, I don't how graceful I was when I fell after the bull threw me."

"That's different, Diego. You were not in control when his horns caught and threw you. But when you were in control…you were like the toreadors in Spain and Mexico…lithe, graceful, agile. You were amazing to watch. You reminded me of the very person we have all compared you to…Zorro. How can someone who purports to be so clumsy, evade a bull for 10 minutes in the same manner as a professional toreador? Is there anything you haven't told me, Diego?"

_Oh Dios_, thought Diego. _Don't tell me Father's now figured out my secret. Madre de Dios, my whole life is out of control! Now what? I'll deflect again. It is getting late. I'll just say I'm tired, which is true_. _I'm not ready to tell him yet. I want to do it on my own terms, not his. I think he's fishing. I'm not gonna bite_.

Looking out of the corner of his eye to see how his father would react, Diego put his hand to his head and acted like he was going to fall off the couch, but caught himself just in time. _Ivanhoe_ dropped to the floor with a small thud. _I've performed fake falls and fake accidents before in order to establish my 'clumsy' character. I really don't want to do that anymore, but this seems an appropriate use of the technique_, he thought. He thought back to the time he 'fell' and sprained his ankle to get out of fighting Sir Miles Thackery, and the 'fall' from the ladder at Christmastime while putting up decorations in the tavern.

"I'm sorry, Father. It seems I've overdone it today. I probably should have rested more. I've been up most of the day. I think I may have only had one short nap. I'm exhausted." Diego looked at Alejandro as though he was barely able to keep his eyes open a moment longer. He didn't want to give Alejandro more anxiety than was necessary, but he needed to get out of this conversation, and right now, he couldn't think of any other way to do it without arousing undo suspicion.

Alejandro saw the deflection. He realized Diego wasn't ready to talk anymore, so he allowed it, and decided to say one last thing he hoped would help Diego understand his true feelings.

"Well – there are many things I could say, son – but I just want you to know that I am very proud of you. You _did_ what needed to be done, and that's all a man can ask of his son. You were a man of action that day, and I couldn't be prouder of you. But I want you to know that I am always proud of you, my son. Now – off to bed with you. Do you need help?" Alejandro's expression was reflected in his words.

Diego reached for his crutches, then looked at his father and smiled. "I'm sorry I've been in such a rotten humor since this happened. I wasn't prepared for something like this to happen, I guess. I'll be all right. If you could help me up…" Alejandro rose from his chair and together, they got Diego off the couch. As they did so, Alejandro spoke.

"Well son, no one _prepares_ to have their leg broken…and no one _prepares_ to try to fight a bull with a broomstick. It was a brave thing you did, but you should be proud that you saved many lives and valuable commercial property. Your quick thinking enabled the merchants and the people to get out of the way. And that's another reason why I'm proud of you, my son."

Diego could see the sincerity in his father's eyes. "Thank you, Father. I – that – means a lot to me…more than you could ever know."

**Z**

Alejandro went to the drawing room after Diego went to bed, hoping to finish up some bookwork, but found he couldn't concentrate.

_He's done it again_, Alejandro thought. _That's twice he's cut off the conversation when it got uncomfortable for him. Why does he do that? Is he hiding something from me? What could it be?_

A thought struck Alejandro, but he shrugged it off as an old man's imagination.

**Z**

Diego spent most of his days the first week on the couch with his leg propped up on pillows in the Library, drawing sketches or reading – except for the two days a week he went to the pueblo to work on The Los Angeles Guardian. The newspaper office wasn't real comfortable or conducive to healing, but it did afford more sitting time in one way or another to Diego. At the newspaper, he propped his leg up on a stool with a pillow he'd borrowed from Victoria's tavern. That didn't really provide him with enough cushioning, however, so he tried to work as quickly as he could.

Other days at home, he would read, while his leg was propped up on a stack of pillows on the couch. One such day, Felipe found him sketching something on top of a book.

He signed a question.

Diego held up the sketch for Felipe to see. "What am I doing? I have an idea of something to make that might make it easier to read or write or sketch while sitting. I'm almost done with it. Want to take a look?"

Felipe looked, but he couldn't figure it out. Diego continued. "I'm calling it a lap-table…because it will be a table-top that sits on my lap, similar to a miniature version of the top of a pulpit, only with a lid. A hinged lid will enable me to keep pencils and paper inside…it will be slanted so I won't have to bend my knees just to balance it. And – uh – I think I'll put a pillow underneath so it will be more comfortable. What do you think of it?"

Felipe's eyes widened and he grinned. His head bobbed up and down as he looked at the sketch and understood the concept. He gave the sketch back to Diego.

Alejandro came in at that moment. "What are you up to, Diego? Felipe looks happier than a clam on the ocean floor."

Diego held out his sketch. "Father, I think I might need your help with this." Alejandro came over and took the paper from him. "What _is_ this, Diego?"

Diego replied, "I'm calling it a lap-table, for lack of a better term. It's so I can read, write or sketch while sitting. I've got to keep my leg fairly immobile, but I'm finding that hard to do by using a book as a table. I'm going to need you and Felipe to build this for me."

Alejandro looked at the sketch. "That's very inventive, and practical. I'll have our carpenter begin work on it tomorrow morning. Will that be soon enough?"

Diego smiled. "Absolutely. Gracias, Father. I appreciate your help."

Diego drew a lot of other sketches that week as well – sketches that he could use later for painting. He drew sketches of the rose garden, and sketches of some of the decorative plates. He put together several still life displays of bowls, fruits, and flowers. He drew 'secret' sketches of Toronado, Victoria, the cave, and the laboratory from memory.

A week later, Diego tried putting weight on his leg. He expected pain. He was trying it out to see how much pain there was. Within two seconds, he still felt severe pain. Felipe stood nearby in case Diego needed him.

"Yes, it still hurts a lot when I put weight on it. I'll try again next week," he said as he hobbled on his crutches back to the couch in the Library. As he 'walked,' he had to hold his leg off the floor, keeping his knee bent, holding his leg up by using his thigh muscles, while relaxing his calf muscles.

He hobbled on his crutches to the cave to see Toronado. It was difficult to bend over and not bump his head to get through the fireplace. Felipe had to help him by shielding Diego's head, because the crutches were too tall, but once he was through, Diego found he could move around fairly easy. He was thankful there weren't too many stairs.

Diego hobbled over and petted the tall, but somewhat temperamental black stallion, putting his crutches under his arms so he could use both hands, but only from the elbow so he wouldn't lose his crutches. He spoke calmly to Toronado.

"Hey boy, did you miss me? I've sure missed you." Toronado whinnied, snorted, then nuzzled his nose in Diego's outstretched hand. Diego petted the horse's nose with one hand, and his neck with the other. He reached into his pocket for a carrot he'd brought, and handed it to Toronado, who eagerly snatched it up. The sound of his chomping filled that corner of the cave.

Diego said, "Maybe in another week or so, boy, we can go for a short ride."

Felipe pointed to Diego and signed "wish." He silently snickered at Diego.

"I know I wish." He nearly fell over and lost a crutch by trying to do a playful whack up the side of Felipe's head.

Felipe signed, "Feeling better?"

Diego knew Felipe meant his attitude. The worst of the physical pain was behind him. Now if he could only reconcile the accident in his mind. He knew there was nothing that could have prevented it, but he still felt somewhat embarrassed…embarrassed that it had happened at all, embarrassed at the attention he got, and embarrassed at his own feelings about it. His talk with Father Benites had helped. He knew perspective was coming; it just hadn't quite gotten there yet.

"_Yes_, I'm feeling _better_. The pain is pretty much gone, except when I move it funny or put weight on it. I just have to get over my negative feelings about it. I'm sure I'll be able to joke about this someday soon."

Felipe smiled and nodded. _He'll be all right. This may drive him crazy for a while, but he'll be all right_, Felipe thought.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8 Horse Tack History

A/N: Wanted to recognize that the Family Channel was able to use again the beautiful horse tack from the 1975 Zorro movie again in 1990…so I made up a little short story about it, making the chapter somewhat longer. The series added the black saddlebags, so I did too. Hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who reviews.

CHAPTER EIGHT – Horse Tack History & Visits

The second week, Diego had Felipe saddle up Toronado and take him outside – so that he could sketch Toronado in full tack – for the beautiful detailed bead work on the bridle, the decorative harness with stars in circles encased in more bead work, looking like an extended charm bracelet encased in beaded elongated eye-shaped chain, and silver=plated accents on the saddle…in case anything would ever have to be recreated. He also did it for posterity. Toronado looked grand that day. He seemed to know what Diego wanted of him. He held his head up high while Diego drew quick sketches from different angles. Felipe brought Toronado near so that Diego could sketch the detailed work close up. Diego thought back to when he purchased the beautifully made tack and saddle.

**Z**

_It was a month before he left for Spain, and a traveling leatherwork merchant from San Francisco was on his way home from a long business trip. He pulled his wagon into the plaza on Market Day from San Juan Capistrano, and uncovered his wares. The quality of his work was excellent, but it was difficult to make sales because the price was generally out of reach of most rancheros, except for the very richest. He hoped a rich caballero would buy something this day. He decided that his featured product today would be his 'Black, White and Silver' Fancy Horse Tack Set, which included the saddle, bridle, and beaded decorative shoulder harness. _

_Young Diego noticed it immediately and was drawn to it._

"_This is magnificent work, Senor. It must have taken you a long time to complete it," Diego ran his fingers over the silver-plated coverings on saddle horn, seat back and stirrups. The black leather seat was smooth. The bridle had a silver heart that brought all the black/white/silver beaded 'strands' together in the middle. When put on a horse, the heart would appear in the middle of its 'forehead.' _

_Diego continued. "The detail is quite amazing and very impressive."_

_The leatherwork merchant replied, "Gracias, Senor. As I recall, it took me six months to make the set and place the silver touches on it. It is only slightly used, but has been stored for fifteen years. It was commissioned by a magistrado with a passion for justice. He was a wonderful man – a sort of lone crusader. Unfortunately, his stallion died tragically soon after he took possession of it, so he sold it back to us. He couldn't bear to put it on any other horse. He asked us to find a new owner. Somehow, it got put into storage. We recently re-discovered it – cleaned and completed minor repairs on it. It would be stunning on a black stallion or mare. Do you have such a horse, Senor…?"_

"_Oh, pardon me. I am Diego de la Vega…at your service. And you are…"_

"_I am Senor Rodolfo Rodriguez of San Francisco. I am a partner in a large tack shop there. My partner runs the local shop, while I attempt to sell our goods along El Camino Real."_

"_Pleased to make your acquaintance Senor Rodriguez. And no, I do not presently own a black horse, but someday, I hope to. I agree – a black horse would look magnificent and stand out in a crowd with this tack set. But I am leaving for Spain soon to attend the University of Madrid…so I'm afraid it would do me no good to purchase this exquisite set now."_

_Senor Rodriguez studied the slender young man a moment. He wanted to get rid of the set, for in every town; at least one caballero was always drawn to it, but for some reason or another, no one would or could never purchase it. He liked the young man. He liked him a lot. He decided he would do anything to make sure this teenage caballero purchased this tack set. He knew by the look of him, that this young man came from a wealthy family. He'd heard a little about the de la Vegas. Who hadn't?_

"_Young man, when you come back to California from University, I believe you will get your black horse. I will make you a special deal. I usually charge a thousand pesos for a tack set like this, but for you – I will reduce it to six hundred – for even though it is a slightly used set – it is in excellent condition."_

_Diego thought a moment. He would have to keep the purchase a secret and hide the tack until he got home from Spain. He knew his father would never agree to such extravagance when it came to horse tack. Don Alejandro was a practical man – he admired high quality leatherwork tack with limited flourishes, but Diego knew his father would think this set was too impractical. _But it's so magnificent. I must have it,_ he thought. _And it will be a good price – if I can get him to throw in a saddlebag set as well…

_To Rodriguez, he said, "Senor, if you will make matching saddle bags of black leather with silver buckles and conches, I will gladly purchase this. It is a magnificent set." Diego didn't know when he'd be able to use the tack, but he felt he had to buy it._

_Senor Rodriguez agreed. The saddle bags were completed one week before he departed for Spain. Diego stored the set in a forgotten area of one of the storage barns. He forgot all about it until he got home, and found Toronado. After three years, the set only needed a little cleaning, because Diego had wrapped the set in a couple of bolts of material, then put it in a large sturdy box labeled "Diego – Private. Do Not Open!"_

_When Felipe helped Diego get the set out of storage, the day after they found Toronado, Diego told him the story of the set. "It's like we're continuing a legacy of justice, Felipe. Toronado is going to look absolutely magnificent in this set. It is unique and I've never seen anything like it before – or since. I feel very privileged to have it. I can hardly believe I had the nerve to spend that much money just before I went to Spain – and was able to successfully hide it from Father."_

**Z**

The day Diego planned to draw Toronado, they had to plan it when the gardeners, vaqueros and Don Alejandro were away from the hacienda, because Diego could only go as far as the edge of the garden wall on his crutches without encountering encumbrances like rocks and holes. Felipe had brought a stool and an easel outside by the wall so Diego could sit while he sketched. It was a beautiful, sunny day, but cool. Diego wore a borrowed pair of baggy work pants to sketch, with socks and sandals.

About halfway through the second week, Felipe and Diego were in the Library, when Diego tried putting weight on the leg again – with the same results.

"Aack! It's still not ready yet!" He growled, and threw his head back in frustration, shaking it. "One of these days…you know…you never know sometimes how much you take the simple act of standing up and walking for granted – until it's difficult to do! Ugh!" Felipe nodded soberly and with empathy.

A couple days later, Felipe came into the Library and found Diego sketching again. He signed another question mark.

"Another 'invention' I'm working on to help me walk…I hope. This sketch is a sort of special sandal attachment to my other sandal to give my foot and leg more support, so that I can hopefully 'walk' without two crutches. The sole will have to be really thick, but very strong. I hope it works. I'll call it my 'walking support' – for lack of a better term."

When Alejandro saw the sketch and heard the idea later that evening, he shook his head in amazement. "You really _are_ inventive, son. I guess your studies weren't a total waste after all." Within a day or so, Diego had his 'walking support' sandal, and it enabled him to occasionally use only one crutch. He had to get the hang of walking with it…carefully. He nearly fell a couple times trying to get used to being so far off balance – it made his broken leg longer than his left leg. He'd reach out for the closest thing to him for balance. He realized he would still need at least one crutch even with the support sandal.

The highlight of the week was when Sergeant Mendoza came to visit. It was a Thursday afternoon, and Diego was in the Library with his lap table writing some poetry…about Victoria, of course…_her beauty is like the cool eastern breeze that comes from Venus…her passion like the hot southern wind that radiates from the sun, her_…and that's all the farther he got before Mendoza arrived. He hastily put his papers and pencils away in his lap-table.

"How are you, Don Diego? What's it been now, two weeks?" Mendoza came over and shook Diego's outstretched hand.

"Hola, Sergeant! Si, it has been two weeks since the accident. Did I tell you, I'm going to need more recipes for your Senor Estómago column? There isn't much news with the Alcalde out of town. When did you say he is coming back?"

"He's due back from his month-long leave in about a week and a half. He left two and a half weeks ago. That is, unless he decides to come back early."

"Do you think there's much chance of that?" Diego thought, _uh-oh, what if the Alcalde comes back early and starts initiating more taxes_. _I still won't be able to ride yet. I need to be able to at least walk on both feet before I can ride a horse_. As it was, he still couldn't put weight on it for longer than a minute, but with his 'walking support sandal' the time extended to about five to ten minutes.

"Probably not, but with the Alcalde, you never can tell."

"Sergeant, how would you like to stay for dinner tonight?"

"Oh si, Don Diego, gracias. I would love that. I left Corporal Sepulveda in charge of the garrison for the evening. He likes to take charge now and again."

**Z**

During the third week, Diego was able to put weight on his leg for short periods of time even without the walking support sandal. This enabled him to put one crutch aside most of the time and be on his feet a little more. He visited the cave at least once a day.

_At least I'm progressing. I can feel the pain diminishing and leg strengthening with the weight bearing. I hope all goes well next week,_ he thought.

When Diego came into town to work on the newspaper that week, a few of the stand owners waved at him in greeting. Peralta, a local peasant farmer, waved and joked, "Senor Torero! Senor Torero!" Diego forced a smile and a small wave…but he did not appreciate the joke. He did not want to be known as "Senor Bullfighter."

Diego was in the Guardian office working on the next edition when Victoria brought him some lunch. He was writing an editorial on community spirit in the pueblo. His leg was propped up on a stool. With the alcalde gone, not much happened, thankfully, the paper was mostly ads and columns. The 'bull fight' was the biggest news to hit the pueblo since the Alcalde went on leave, but there was _no way_ Diego was going to focus on his part in it. Instead, he included an update on his leg in his short editorial, used material that had been bumped from earlier issues, but focused on the roles others played in the event.

The regular columns of Senor Estómagoand Dońa Corazón were expanded during the weeks the alcalde was gone. Zorro hadn't been seen for nearly a month, so there wasn't any news of him. At the beginning of the fourth week, Diego wrote a lengthy editorial about the importance of community cooperation – in order to accomplish certain goals. Diego had also contacted editors of neighboring communities like Santa Paula and Santa Barbara for their top news.

"Good afternoon, Diego. How is everything going today? How is your leg?" Victoria held out the tray of chicken enchiladas and set it on Diego's desk – after he hastily cleared it of a couple short stacks of papers.

"The issue is coming along nicely. I'm expanding Dońa Corazón this week, using your longer answers. I'm sorry that I sometimes have to shorten them to fit. And – uh – the leg is coming along as well, but I can hardly wait to get the splints off. Doctor Hernandez is going to be taking a look at it in a few days. How's the tavern?"

"As usual. Sergeant Mendoza is in tamale heaven, I think." She chuckled.

All of a sudden, Diego's leg itched down near the ankle, and he jumped, because he couldn't lean over that far to scratch it. A surprised gasp escaped his lips.

"What was _that_, Diego? Are you all right?" Victoria's face showed the alarm she was feeling.

Diego looked around the office for a ruler of some sort. He tried to chuckle, but it fell flat. He spoke crisply. "Yes, I'm fine. Victoria, could you get me that ruler over there on the drafting table? My leg just gave me a _powerful_ itch. I've had itches at home for over a week, but not here. I guess that means it's getting well. But I can't reach it with my hand..."

Victoria let out her breath in relief. "Is _that_ all it was? I was afraid something had _bit_ you, but I couldn't see any spider or snake." She went over the table and brought the long ruler over to him.

Diego hastily took the ruler from her and began moving it back and forth under and between the wrappings. But he moved it slowly, with great deliberation, so he wouldn't cause himself more pain. "So, besides crutches, I'll now have to have a ruler or a stick or something else handy. An itch can be very annoying – almost painful – if not scratched." He grimaced and sighed in satisfaction as the ruler finally found the right spot.

Victoria thought of something she had never followed up on before. "Diego, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, I don't mind. What is it?"

"On the day of your accident, you said something kind of strange, and you laughed at something... Can I ask you about that?"

"What are you referring to?" Diego tried thinking back, but all he could remember was his embarrassment at getting hurt.

"Well, I said that Zorro would have been proud of you, and you _laughed_. I was _serious_ when I said that. Dr. Hernandez said it was probably your reaction to his painkillers. I've said something like that to you before and you didn't seem to be offended. Why this time?"

Diego fidgeted in his chair, then looked down. He was trying to remember what she was talking about. "I'm sorry. I wasn't angry at you." He tried to chuckle, but it didn't come out right. "I was probably angry at myself for being awkward and getting hurt. I'm sure I wasn't thinking clearly." _Watch what you say…_ "Does that answer your question?"

Victoria nodded. "You know Diego, it seemed like you were angry at Zorro for being a man of action that you aren't – normally."

"_Me_? Angry at _Zorro_?" He cleared his throat and gulped. Then, he chuckled. "I guess there could be some truth in what you say. It just seems to me that he never gets himself in as much trouble as I do. There must be something about wearing black…" _Watch what you say_…_but I'm tired of watching what I say…_

Victoria looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean by _that_? Zorro's been in some pretty serious situations before; but I guess I can see where you might be frustrated. After all, he has a whip, a horse, and a sword – and you come to the pueblo totally unarmed. Maybe you should consider wearing a caballero's sword…like when I first saw you again…" Her mind drifted back to the handsome caballero who had just returned from Spain.

Diego smiled himself at the memory. "Unfortunately, Victoria, I'm not sure wearing a sword would solve any problems. A person who wears a sword has to be prepared to wield it. I do not _wish_ to be prepared to use one. I am a man of peace. I believe in the power of words…so I fight for justice with the newspaper. And _you_ _know_ the power _some_ words can _have_." He gave her a smirk, that seemed oddly familiar to her, but at the moment, she couldn't place it.

"Oh _please_, don't _remind_ me…" Victoria blushed at the memory of Dr. Henry Wayne's potions, and the 'love' she felt for Ignacio De Soto.

Diego chuckled. "I'm sure you were embarrassed about that…that's kind of how I feel…more embarrassed about it all – than anything else. It may be illogical, but that's how I feel. Father Benites said I shouldn't compare myself to Zorro anymore. That it's not helpful."

Victoria gave him a compassionate smile of understanding. "I can understand that, Diego… although I will always remind you of how brave you were that day…but I'll _try_ not to compare you to Zorro anymore either." But she still couldn't understand what his problem was.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9 De Soto Returns

CHAPTER NINE – De Soto Returns

Alcalde De Soto stopped a moment on the El Camino Real about fifteen miles north of Los Angeles. In some ways, he couldn't wait to be back, and in others, he almost wished he hadn't given up his room in Monterey. He'd gone to the seashore every day. He'd met with territorial officials only twice. He'd read two books, and romanced a tavern wench of his own in the evenings. The thought made him chuckle, as he thought of his masked arch-enemy. _Why romance her? Why lead her on? Just take her_, he thought, _like I did_. _Of course, maybe he already has_. And De Soto snickered again while rubbing his beard in thought. And yet, the senorita swore up and down she had not been compromised by Zorro or anyone else. He had no proof, and everyone in Los Angeles swore Senorita Escalante's innocence.

He took out his handkerchief and mopped his forehead. It was a hot one today. He took a drink from his canteen, then dismounted and poured some water into his gloved left hand and offered it to the horse. He saw a tree about 20 yards off the left side of the road.

"Come on, ole' boy, let's get some shade," he said to his horse. "We'll rest a short while before returning home."

_Ah, it will be good to get back to Los Angeles_, De Soto thought. _The leave gave me some perspective on things. I'll be able to focus on what's important, and make new plans when I return_. _I'm going to move slowly. I'm going to wait and see what happens. But I will catch the Fox. I will, if it's the last thing that I do_.

Whatever his thoughts, De Soto actually hoped things were quiet in the pueblo upon his return – to give him a chance to correct all the paperwork mistakes he knew Sergeant Mendoza would make while he was gone. And, until he could come up with a foolproof plan, frankly, he was hoping he wouldn't have to deal with Zorro – at least for a little while. Lots of ideas were running through his head, but none of them were taking shape yet.

After a short siesta, De Soto remounted his white horse, and trotted the rest of the way to the pueblo. He'd risen early this morning from an inn at San Luis Obispo, about half the distance between Monterey and Los Angeles.

He arrived about an hour later, in the late afternoon. He had sent the bulk of his luggage ahead of him on the coach yesterday so that it would get to Los Angeles around the same time he did. De Soto had only carried the most basic of necessities in his saddle bags. He had military privileges, being alcalde, and the luggage cost was minimal. It should have arrived in the pueblo about an hour ago.

As soon as he rode in, he tied his horse and went straight to his office. Mendoza was such a slob! Papers were everywhere…piles, and yesterday's leftover enchiladas! Obviously the sergeant hadn't expected him back for a few more days. He should really take Mendoza to task about neatness and cleanliness in the office. But, right now, he wanted to catch up on the news of the pueblo.

"SERGEANT MENDOZA! Come into this office – AT ONCE!" He heard a crash from the back porch area of the cuartel, as a chair was knocked over backwards. Mendoza came lumbering in a moment later.

"Si, mi Alcalde! Welcome back, Alcalde!" Mendoza stood strictly at attention and saluted De Soto. He gulped and tried to hide as much shock as he could. Even though he knew it was a distinct possibility De Soto would return early, Mendoza was sincerely hoping he wouldn't. He waited until De Soto spoke, before he said anything further.

De Soto had the latest edition of The Guardian on his desk, but he didn't see anything of interest in it.

"Sergeant, so – the pueblo was quiet while I was gone? Did anything happen of interest? I see that The Guardian doesn't have much news in it – just expanded Senor Estómago, and Dońa Corazon and some sort of de la Vega drivel about community service in his editorial. Was there nothing of interest while I was gone?"

Sergeant Mendoza cleared his throat. "Not much has happened, mi Alcalde, except for one thing. I'm not sure how much of that ended up in the newspaper, because of …well, anyway… About three weeks ago, a week or so after you left, the loco bull of Senor Segura got loose in the plaza on Market Day, but Don Diego made sure no one got hurt."

"Don _Diego_? How did he do that?"

"Oh, Alcalde – he was magnificent! You should have seen him! He…"

De Soto interrupted. "Diego? Diego de la Vega was _magnificent_? In what way?" De Soto was having a hard time imagining Diego de la Vega being magnificent at anything, except reading a book.

"In the way he fought the bull!" Mendoza gulped.

De Soto was flabbergasted, but frustrated. Sometimes, the Sergeant talked so much it made his head swim, but today, trying to get information from Mendoza was like squeezing blood out of a turnip.

"Bull – fighting? Don _Diego_? Tell me, Sergeant! Tell me _all_ about it…" De Soto looked skeptically at the sergeant.

Mendoza hesitated, looking at De Soto to see if it was going to be worth his while to finish the story. He had a bad feeling about De Soto's reaction.

"Please continue, Sergeant." De Soto leaned back in his chair. _This ought to be good_, he thought.

Mendoza's eyes sparkled. "You would have thought he had taken lessons, you know, in the bullfighting. Ay Chihuahua! He kept the bull busy chasing him around the plaza…" the Sergeant was getting into his story-telling mode ever so slowly…watching to see if the alcalde was hanging on every word. When Mendoza saw that he had De Soto's full attention, he milked the story for all it was worth.

"…so that the vendors and people could get out of the bull's path. Diego and I were in the tavern for lunch when we heard screaming. Don Alejandro was in charge of the bull auction that day. You would have thought he was commandanté that day, the way he shouted orders…And _I_ – _I_ – _bravely_ ran across the plaza, escaping the dangers from that loco bull – so I could get to the cuartel and gather the lancers to _also_ help fight the bull!"

"Wait a minute, Sergeant. Who exactly fought the bull? You, Don Alejandro, or Don Diego?" De Soto was trying to get a handle on what really happened. He knew that Mendoza usually stretched the truth of his own role in any event that occurred. De Soto wanted to at least get that straight in his mind.

Mendoza cleared his throat and stuck a finger in his collar to loosen it. His chin went up as he did so. "Oh, well…uh – we all did."

"You – _all_ – did! Tell me, what was _your_ part again?"

Mendoza moved his head from side to side as he continued his attempt to loosen his collar, nervously. "Oh, I – uh – _bravely_ ran to the cuartel and gathered the troops!"

"And what was Don Alejandro's role?"

"Well, Don Alejandro gave orders to the vaqueros to catch the bull! To – uh – throw their ropes…there were some on the ground, and some on horseback…"

"So – what – did Don Diego do?"

"Well, uh, Don Diego fought the bull – himself. But unfortunately, he broke his leg, when the bull threw him in the air!"

De Soto interrupted. "_Sergeant_! Wait a minute. Are you telling me that de la Vega broke his leg, really broke his leg fighting a _bull_?" De Soto wheezed in laughter at his imagined sight of seeing Diego de la Vega thrown up in the air by a bull and landing clumsily enough to break his leg. _Serves him right,_ De Soto thought. _De la Vega trying to be a hero_. "_Ha_!" he said aloud.

"Si, mi Alcalde. But there's more." Mendoza couldn't wait now.

"There's _more_ to this comedy? What?" De Soto was still laughing at the thought of Diego fighting a bull in the plaza. _What a joke! I can just see El Torero, cape in one, sword in the other! Wait something's wrong with this picture. De la Vega never wears a sword_. _That's probably why he got hurt_, De Soto snickered to himself.

"Well, Alcalde, actually, Don Diego was a hero that day. He saved all the vendors in the plaza from injury and their stands by distracting the bull with a broomstick, so they could get away…"

"_WHAT_! He fought the bull with a _BROOM – STICK_!" De Soto threw his head back and laughed out loud again. He leaned forward in his chair. "Tell me that again, Sergeant! I can't believe it!" But he was laughing so loud, he really didn't hear Mendoza repeat the story.

"…and the vaqueros could eventually capture the bull. He was very graceful, and evaded the bull for about ten minutes before his leg got caught in the bull's horns, and he got thrown in the air."

"That sounds like something de la Vega would do! Fight a bull with a _broomstick – and not a sword_!" Alcalde De Soto couldn't help it. He was beside himself with laughter, but he saw Mendoza frowning. "What's the matter, Sergeant?"

"Well, mi Alcalde, it wasn't really that funny. It was very heroic, really. The vendors were all very grateful."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure they were, Sergeant." De Soto struggled to get his laughter under control. He still had a mental picture of Diego flying through the air arms and legs flailing. De Soto shook his head and leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face to try to sober up his expression. "Did anything else happen? Has _Zorro_ been around?"

"No, sir. It's been very quiet, like I said. Only the bull in the plaza…that's all. Zorro has not been seen since before you left."

"EX-cellent, Sergeant. I'm glad to hear it. And, thank you for providing me with my entertainment of the day. That's the best story I've heard in a long time. You may go." De Soto chuckled to himself at his mental picture of Diego 'fighting' a bull with a broomstick, then flying through the air. He couldn't help himself. It was just so _funny_!

As Mendoza left, he turned to look at De Soto, and shook his head with a questioning look. _I'll never understand the Alcalde_, thought Mendoza. _He thinks things are funny that are _not_ funny, and doesn't think things that really _are_ funny – to be funn_y.

**Z**

Week three brought less pain most of the time, even when moving it – especially after Diego had rested the leg a long time. Midway during the week he tested it again by standing on it for short periods, both with and without his walking support sandal.

_It is getting better_, he thought. _Another week or so and hopefully these splints can come off. At least I can put some weight on it now, for short periods of time_.

Midway of the third week, during one of his 'rest' periods, Diego got back to _Ivanhoe_. The tale of prejudice, chivalry, and two people falling in love with the wrong person held Diego's attention. Diego had a suspicion he knew who the Black Knight was, but wasn't at the point where those suspicions were confirmed. And then, there was Cedric and Wilfred, the father and son. Ivanhoe called himself The Disinherited Knight. Diego hoped he would never have to go that far to keep his secret from his father.

Several times a day, for short durations, he would stand on the leg, being careful to test it with just a little weight at a time. Every day it got better. And with the walking support sandal, Diego was able to be up and around a lot more.

Diego thought, _I look forward to next week, when Dr. Hernandez will check the leg again, and hopefully remove the bulky and long splints and bandages. I really hope that I can dress 'normal' after Hernandez's visit next week…and that I can graduate down to a cane_. When the time came, Alejandro had offered a cane he used when he had previously fallen off Dulcinea.

**Z**

Just after supper, in the early evening, Alejandro came in to sit with Diego again. Diego was sitting on the couch with his leg stretched out and propped up on a pile of pillows. Both were reading books, when Alejandro sighed, put his book down, and thought he would talk with Diego. Hopefully his son was ready to talk to him.

"Diego, how is the leg feeling tonight?"

"It's fine, Father. There is virtually no pain at all. I'm getting around better. I can put weight on it for short periods of time. I can feel it is improving almost daily."

"That's wonderful, son. How are you _feeling_ about it all? It's been three weeks. You seem to have made peace with it, am I right?"

Diego placed his bookmark and set _Ivanhoe_ on his lap. "You know, Father, three weeks ago, I was very angry at myself for letting this happen. I've come to realize that sometimes, things happen. I know things happen for a reason, and although I'm still not quite sure what the reason is for this yet, I'm beginning to get perspective on it – just a little bit."

Alejandro smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, son. I felt you were over-reacting and I couldn't understand your anger. I realize now it's because I, and probably others as well, often compare you to Zorro, and I now see that was wrong."

"I discovered I held self-loathing attitudes. We all do from time to time…we have regrests. But Father Benites helped me understand a few things. He even told me he thinks I'll be able to joke about this pretty soon." He chuckled at the thought.

"Well, I apologize for comparing you to Zorro, son. But sometimes, I see similarities between the two of you, and I would like to see you be more of the man of action that Zorro is, rather than the bookworm you are." Alejandro looked Diego straight in the eye.

Diego chuckled again, but looked down most of the time, only glancing at his father once in a while. "_Similarities_, Father? _What_ similarities? I've been told I'm as far away from Zorro as anyone can get." And to himself, he thought, _and that's the way I want it so no one will suspect_.

"Similarities in the way the two of you move under pressure, for one. I've seen Zorro fight, and I saw you evade the bull. The similarity of the grace and fluidity of movement between the two of you cannot be denied."

"Why do you keep saying the 'between the two of you'?" Diego was beginning to fidget now. His fingers traced the embossing on the cover of _Ivanhoe_.

"Because my, son…I don't know how you've done it all these years…but you have managed to split yourself in two…"

TBC


	10. Chapter 10 Hiding & Misunderstandings

CHAPTER TEN – Hiding & Misunderstandings

"_What_? I beg your pardon, Father?" Diego felt like he'd been caught red-handed again, and gulped.

"You heard me, Diego. You've split yourself in two. I don't know everything, but I know that it can't be healthy for a man to be two people."

"But – but – Father…" Panic began to rise. Bile came up to his throat. Diego eyes betrayed his emotions. He had to try to get control of this conversation.

Try as he might, Alejandro's frustration came out once again. "Don't 'but Father' me. You've _changed_ since you came home from Spain, and I don't like what I've seen. You were always a young man of action and adventurous spirit, even from boyhood. But since you've been home from Spain, you've turned into someone I hardly know anymore. I know I said I would try not to do this – but I can't _help_ _but_ compare you to Zorro, when as a young man; you would have been a man of action like Zorro is now. He is the kind of man I want you to be…a man of action, of leadership, of justice. Now, Diego, I want to know why you _changed_. And _please_, tell me the _truth_."

Diego sat in shock. Things had so improved with his father – well – ever since the 'coward' incident – this outburst almost seemed uncharacteristic…and yet, Diego now saw that his father's feelings towards him had not really changed at all.

"Diego, I'm waiting for an answer." Alejandro stared at Diego. He saw the internal struggle going on inside his son. His tone softened. "Diego…please…_please_ – tell me. Tell me – _something_! Tell me – _anything_!"

Diego shut his eyes a moment, trying to get control of his own emotions and allow his father's raw emotional display to roll off him, like water off a duck's back.

**Z**

Felipe was watching this whole conversation, if you could call it that, from the cave. He thought, _I know Diego needs help – I need to distract Alejandro. But I'm inside the cave. What could I do from here?_

_Diego would be very angry with me if I came through the fireplace now. But that's what I want to do_, Felipe thought. He'd watched as the relationship between Diego and Alejandro deteriorated almost from the moment Zorro was born.

It was to have been a great adventure! And it was! But _now_ – now it was becoming a great burden…almost a never-ending bondage.

Felipe kept watching through the peephole.

**Z**

Diego sighed. "Father, what do you want me to say? What can I tell you that will make sense to you?"

Alejandro sighed as well. Tension was released. "Son, are you _hiding_ something from me? I feel like you have been hiding _yourself_ from me ever since you came home – and that's been years. I have tried to reach out to you – but you continue to be a disappointment to me, son, except for this incident – when – it seems – that you disappointed yourself. I know I raised you to be a de la Vega…not what I see in front of me…a _shadow_ of half a man…half a man…If what I see is half of you – then _where_ is the other half? _Who_ is the other half?

"You know son, if you're keeping something from me – it hurts to think you don't trust me. If there's something bothering you – maybe I can help. But I just can't _stand_ this anymore. I feel like you're a _stranger_ to me. I don't know who you _are_ anymore, son. I'm sorry. You're _all_ I have…and when I saw you in the plaza…and I knew you were hurt…I just wanted to gather you in my arms and protect you from all harm, mi hijo… If anything serious happened to you… well…I would die…"

Alejandro's voice cracked at the last couple of statements. Tears came to his eyes. He growled in agony and frustration as he fled from the room.

**Z**

"_You must tell him_," Felipe signed. "_You must! It's tearing him apart. He thinks…he said_…"

As soon as Alejandro fled the Library, Felipe entered from the fireplace. He was in a panic. Never before had he seen Alejandro so upset with Diego. He knew something serious had taken place a few months before, when he had drawn the fire of the stagecoach bandits and he had spoken for the first time since he was a small boy. He felt the change in the atmosphere between the two men after he'd come home, but he didn't understand it. He asked Diego about it, but Diego just said there had been a serious disagreement.

"Amigo, we've been through this before. I can't tell him. You _know_ that. It's for his own safety. You _know_ he cannot control his emotions. One slip of the tongue, and I'm a dead man – in one way or another. He may suspect, he may wonder, but I cannot tell him. I just _can't_." Diego was practically whining. There was a desperate tone to his voice.

"_But the longer this goes on, the worse your relationship with your father gets. You've got to _do_ something. You can't continue to let him think…you've already shown him that you _are_ a de la Vega. You're laid up because of it. Tell him something! Tell him anything! But tell him something_!" Felipe's signs grew more and more desperate.

"Yes, Felipe, I _do_ need to tell him something. I'm just not sure what yet. I'll think about it."

"_Don't wait too long_," signed Felipe.

"I won't." Diego went back to reading.

**Z**

The relationship between father and son remained at an impasse for the next few days. It seemed once Alejandro got his feelings off his chest, his mood improved, and his tone lightened. He _also_ looked forward to the day when Diego got his splints off. _Maybe that will free him to tell me something_, Alejandro thought.

_Today's the day_, thought Diego. Dr. Hernandez was coming over to check the leg. Alejandro, Felipe, and Diego were in the Library when the doctor arrived. Diego was wearing a pair of his split-seam lace-up caballero pants, in anticipation of getting the splints removed. Diego knew it was healing well, and he felt rather confident that it had healed – but it needed to get back into shape. _I know that it may hurt, but to be able to put weight on it and walk around with a cane instead of crutches…that would almost be heaven_, Diego thought. _And to wear long pants without one leg being seam-split with the fabric flapping around all the time, and a boot…ah_…

When the white-haired, kindly doctor arrived, he unwrapped the bandages and took the splints off. He felt the leg and examined it thoroughly. It looked good, maybe still a bit swollen, but the bones had knitted well together. The bone felt strong. "How does this feel, Diego? For the break it was, this bone has set very quickly. In most cases it takes six to eight weeks, but you've done remarkably well. There will still be some strengthening to do, but it feels good."

"It's feeling pretty good. Only when you press in hard does it hurt at all – but not really that much. I'm thankful it's healing quickly."

"Yes, I imagine you are." Hernandez looked at him with a twinkle in his eye before continuing. "Let me see you put weight on it."

Diego got up and stood a moment. He was somewhat shaky because he'd gotten used to balancing with splints with and without the walking support sandal, and now to go back to no support at all, was a little strange. He wobbled a moment and Felipe caught his arm to help him balance.

"How does that feel, Diego?" Hernandez asked.

"Pretty good. No real pain, just weakness and stiffness."

The doctor continued. "Then I would say, start taking baby steps. Don't overdo it. Try not to be on your feet too long at one time, and don't lean on your left leg too long, or it may seize up. Try working the ankle every day to get your mobility back. It may take a few days before you get full range of motion back. I know you'll be glad to get into a pair of regular trousers again and boots…and get around with a cane instead of crutches. I understand you have a cane already, is that correct?"

Alejandro piped up. "Yes, I have that cane from when I fell off Dulcinea last year and broke my ribs. I've offered it to Diego."

Hernandez nodded. "That will be fine, but Diego is somewhat taller than you. Should it prove too short, Diego, let me know, and we'll get you another one. And if your leg hurts or needs more support, just wrap it up for a short while during the day or evening and use a couple of sticks if necessary. You'll have to explain to me the concept behind your sandal contraption sometime. It sounds promising."

"I'm sure this cane will be fine Doctor. I don't plan on using it for too long anyway, maybe a week at the most. It will be _so good_ to be able to get around! And gracias, Dr. Hernandez – I'll take good care of it. Why don't you take the walking support sandal – my little contraption – with you – I won't need it. Then you can see how it will work with other patients."

"Gracias, Diego. Well, I'll see myself out." Doctor Hernandez picked up his bag and Diego's walking support sandal, and left.

Alejandro beamed. "I'll go get you that cane. And, I have an idea, Son. Let's have a few people over to celebrate your being on two feet again!" Felipe nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Sounds good, Father. I get to choose _who to invite_, though." Diego was thankful that he and his father could at least be mostly comfortable in each other's presence – as long as they avoided certain topics of discussion. Diego still wasn't quite sure what he was going to tell his father about being 'two people' – but he didn't think it would be the secret.

As soon as Dr. Hernandez left, Diego immediately limped to his room and changed his clothes, putting on a pair of his regular trousers. He changed his socks and sandals, and placed his right foot in a black boot. _Yes_! He thought. _Everything fits. I'm all right_. _I still have a stiff ankle and knee to work out, but I'm definitely getting there_!

**Z**

The first thing Diego did after changing his clothes was to go to the cave and check on Toronado. He hadn't been able to get down to the cave without difficulty since the accident. The crutches were awkward and difficult. Felipe had to help him about every time until last week when he could finally hold his crutch like a cane to hop through the opening, instead of it being under his arm.

As soon as he stepped into the cave, Toronado snorted a greeting. Diego worked his way over to the black stallion, getting used to the feel of the cane. He leaned on his left leg, cane in his left hand, while using his right hand to pet Toronado's nose, neck, and back. The touch felt good to both horse and master – to renew the relationship.

"Hey there boy, I've missed seeing you. Sorry I couldn't come more often. I know it's been difficult. Did you miss me?" The horse snorted and pawed at the ground in agreement.

"Well, I'm definitely well now, Toronado. Well, almost. I promise I'll get you out this week for a short ride."

Felipe came through the fireplace. He knew this would be the first place Diego would head. He pointed to Toronado and signed "missed you."

Diego replied, "Yes, the ole boy and I will be spending a lot more time with each other now that I'm free of the splints. You've done a great job taking care of him, Felipe. I know he appreciates it. I know I probably can't ride him for very long yet, and I'm going to wait until tomorrow before I ride him at all…we'll see how that goes – but I'm well now – and I expect to get back to full strength within the next week.

"The alcalde's back from his leave – and you never know what's going to happen with him around. He hasn't done anything yet – but I want to be prepared."

Felipe nodded his head and patted Toronado's nose. _Things will get back to normal soon_, he thought. _Hopefully now that he's free of the splints, Diego will find time to talk to his father – and mend that broken relationship_.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11 Celebrations & Understandings

A/N: s, Shelby, the horse tack was from the 1975 Alain Delon Zorro movie. I think the Family Channel producers must have been quite proud to have secured the tack set, because they almost seemed to 'feature' it quite a bit, so you could actually see what it looked like. I recently watched the 1975 Zorro movie again – you could see it was the same set, but they certainly didn't 'feature' it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN – Celebrations and Understandings

After supper the evening Diego's splints came off; he limped with the cane into the drawing room where his father was doing paperwork. "Father, can I speak to you a moment?"

Alejandro looked up and saw a rather contrite expression on Diego's face – as if he'd done something wrong and wanted to apologize.

"Certainly, son. What can I do for you?" Alejandro tried to gauge Diego's attitude.

Diego sighed and sat in the chair on the other side of the writing desk and stretched his leg out. "Father, earlier this week, you asked me a question and you demanded an answer…and I didn't – I couldn't – give you one. I want to apologize for disappointing you, for not being able to answer you, and for possibly offending you."

Alejandro waited. Diego paused a moment, then continued.

"I know that you love me. And I believe you know that I love you. You are my father. You are my 'hero.' I look up to you…" Diego swallowed. This was harder than he thought, but he wanted to be sincere in what he said. He wasn't going to lie unless he had to – to protect the secret.

"Father, I want you to know that I _am_ a de la Vega, I am _your_ son, but I am also the son of Dona Felicidad Elena. Before I went to Spain, I was a carefree child. I was physically active; daring and eager to show bravado. I could afford to be, then. I was a _child_ who had nothing to fear. I was protected by both you and mother. When you wrote for me to come home, I knew it was only because you were desperate and that in your mind, desperate times called for desperate actions. I saw immediately why you asked me to come home. Alcalde Ramone was a dangerous, ruthless tyrant who was terrorizing the whole pueblo…

Diego swallowed before continuing. Alejandro sat watching his son.

"It didn't take me long to realize that overt action would not help. You and Victoria were already in jail for treason. Ramone threatened _me_ as well, if I led an insurrection with the caballeros. I've never _told_ you any of this before, Father, because our lives seem to be one emergency after another ever since I got home. I know I've disappointed you – and for that – I am sorry.

"When you were in jail the first time, and when you were returned there after Zorro broke you out – I was beside myself with worry and fear for your safety. What could I do? I was _also_ under _threat_ of imprisonment."

Diego ran his hands through his hair. "And I hate feeling helpless, Father, just as you do. What could I do? It seemed there was no course of 'action' open to me…so I waited. And someone, an anonymous hero, came to the rescue – Zorro. I'm grateful for that, as I know you are, too. _He_ can get things done without retribution, because he is not known. Because no one knows his true identity, he is a man of action that I am not.

"…If it seems I'm 'half a man' to you since I came home from Spain…if it seems I've split myself into two people – I've had to – I have. I acknowledge that. I've also had to do and say many things I'm not particularly proud of. I've had to lie…not tell the whole truth about certain things. I hope you'll forgive me for that as well…"

Alejandro sat listening. He still didn't quite understand the point Diego was trying to make. This long speech was more than he'd heard Diego say _since_ he came home from Spain. Alejandro continued to wait for Diego to resume. He didn't want to interrupt at this point. He felt that Diego had been working on this in his mind for several days, ever since their earlier conversation. Alejandro wanted to make it as easy as possible for Diego to share.

At that point, Diego got up and started a slow pacing, limping back and forth the length of the desk with the help of the too-short cane. Alejandro's eyes followed his son's every move.

"…as I said, I've had to lie about some things…not tell the whole truth. I haven't begun to tell you why I'm two people. I can't. Try as I might, I simply _can't_ tell you _everything_ now, Father – you'll have to trust me to be an adult – a de la Vega – not the carefree _child_ who has no fears – but the '_man'_ who has a _clear grasp_ of present realities.

"I do 'fight' in my way, through The Guardian, Father. At first, I wasn't thrilled when you and Victoria 'volunteered' me for that position. But now I'm glad you did. I really am. Even though I've been put in jail for what I've said, at least I can be a de la Vega, and speak out in that way. I'm sorry if this disappoints you, but this is what I feel I _can_ _do_ – for now. And there are many situations that I am simply not free to fully explain.

"And Father, I will only say this. When you sent me to Spain, it was the best thing for me. It changed my life in so many ways. It has changed _all_ our lives. I cannot say more right now. But I got _the full benefit_ of my training there…in every way you can imagine. If I don't reveal everything I learned there – I want you to know – there is a _reason_ for it…and you'll have to _trust_ _me_ to be the _man_ you sent me there to become…because I _am_…in ways you cannot even fathom right now. That's – that's all I have to say. Thank you for listening, Father."

Alejandro was stunned. He still didn't know what Diego was trying to tell him. All he managed was to say, "Diego. Thank you for sharing your heart. You _are_ a true de la Vega. You spoke out. I will think much on what you have shared my son, and I will trust you to know what you are doing."

Diego nodded, turned on his heel, and left. Alejandro went back to his paperwork, but his mind wasn't on it. It was reeling from _everything_ Diego said…and what he _didn't_ say. _He's lied? About what? He got the 'full benefit' of his training? Did that include swordsmanship? He did say Sir Edmund taught him to use whatever was available as a weapon…hmmmm. What's he _really_ trying to tell me_, Alejandro thought.

**Z**

Alejandro and Diego started practicing a piano duet to play during the party, set for two days later. _We seem to be getting along very well, now_, Alejandro thought. _I know he still doesn't tell me everything, but I will trust him to tell me what I need to know in order to help him_. _And this plaza incident shows me he's willing to take action when necessary_…_and hopefully he's not deriding himself about that anymore. I haven't heard him say anything about it for quite some time. Maybe he's reconciled himself to it_. Alejandro smiled to himself. _My son is truly becoming the man I want him to be…a true de la Vega, and I have told him so._

After dinner, Alejandro and Diego played the piano duet they'd practiced. It was a lively and catchy tune that resolved itself with a flourish at the end. Alejandro shook hands with his guests. Diego limped over with his cane towards where Victoria and Mendoza were sitting. It took him a minute to get there, as he greeted other guests along the way.

Sergeant Mendoza leaned over to Victoria and whispered, "I thought you said Don Diego was a good piano player."

Victoria replied, "He is."

Mendoza whispered again, "Well, he had his father helping him."

Victoria whispers back, "It's a melody for four hands."

"I knew that." Mendoza looked a bit embarrassed.

Diego limped over, balancing himself with the cane. _It's better than the homemade crutches_, he thought. _At least I don't look too much like a cripple_. "So Sergeant, what did you think?"

Mendoza rose from his chair. "It didn't go for me, Don Diego. I prefer music you can sing along with – perhaps even whistle."

Diego took the criticism with a grain of salt. "I'll keep that in mind."

Mendoza looked down, then asked, "Thank you. Say, how is your leg?" It had been a couple of weeks since Mendoza's visit.

"Improving daily, thank you. The splints and bandages are off, and I almost feel normal again."

Victoria joined the conversation from her seated position. "You were very brave, Diego. That bull would have wrecked the entire plaza if you hadn't distracted it! Remember I said, I would always say how brave you were."

With a placating smile, Diego replied, "Well, facing a bull with a broomstick may be more like stupidity than bravery." He chuckled at himself. He'd listened to a lot of compliments to his bravery in the last four weeks. He was finally reconciling it in his mind. Father Benites' prayer helped heal his soul. And Benites was right. He was beginning to see the sense of humor in it, and he felt he could actually joke about it…after the limp was gone.

Everyone heard the loud horse whinnies. Miguel, their most trusted vaquero came running out of breath. He fell against Don Alejandro, who took him in the house. The others followed.

Diego looked out into the dark and murmured in frustration. "Of all things, just when Zorro is needed the most." He thought to himself. _I'm better, but I'm not ready to ride yet_, _or fight or run, or climb…or just about anything physical Zorro might be required to do. I can barely walk!_

Alejandro rode into town to join the posse. Four horses from de la Vega ranch and several horses from the cuartel were missing. Alcalde De Soto's peaceful return to the pueblo didn't last long.

**Z**

Victoria rode after Jose Macias, who had been accused of stealing the horses again after they'd been found in his corral. Diego was sitting with Felipe outside with his leg propped up on the underneath shelf of a wicker type garden table. They were talking about Victoria's drive to help Jose, when they saw her riding by at a gallop. Diego called out, but she didn't hear. They watched as she rode past the hacienda.

Felipe signed "Victoria" and "fear." Diego interpreted as "No, I don't suppose Victoria is afraid of Jose, but there is something…" Their attention is drawn outside the wall.

He jumped out of his chair and quickly hop-limped to the wall. "_Victoria_!" To Felipe, he said, "Victoria may not be afraid of Jose, but there is something she's overlooked. If Jose is innocent as we all believe, what if she runs into the _real_ thief?"

Felipe pointed to the leg. Diego replied, "A stolen horse or two is one thing, but for the woman I love, Zorro rides, broken leg or not." He handed his cane to Felipe, and limped inside.

In the cave, Zorro prepared to mount Toronado. "My leg shouldn't be a problem as long as I stay in the saddle. Victoria's life may be in danger, that's all that matters." Diego had been out on Toronado for a short ride two days earlier and the leg had done fine. He couldn't wait any longer. He mounted Toronado the day after the splints were taken off. He suffered for it too. His leg hurt for a couple of hours after that.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12 Zorro Rides

A/N: Abbreviated version of parts of the actual episode, plus a few little extras that weren't in the episode, and suspicions.

CHAPTER TWELVE – Zorro Rides

Victoria tracked and found Jose and the horse thieves. She watched the camp from a place above. "Jose Macias, a horse thief. Well, I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."

Toronado leapt the canyon. Zorro saw from a distance that Victoria had two guns in her belt. Victoria said aloud, as if Jose could hear her, "You're coming in, if I have to bring you in myself."

A thief spotted Victoria and tried to sneak up a rock in front of her. She shot the gun out of his hand. It startled him, and he put his hands up. The leader of the horse thieves heard the shot, and wondered what was going on.

"After you, Senor," Victoria kept her second gun trained. She followed him down into the ravine, where she found Jose. She was very angry.

Meanwhile, Zorro was still tracking Victoria. He saw her shoot the gun out of the hand of one horse thief and tried to get a good vantage point, while a confrontation in the camp continued. He continued to slowly close in while mounted on Toronado. _So far, I've been able to stay in the saddle. I hope I can keep my promise to Felipe to stay in the saddle_, Zorro thought.

Jose said, "Senorita Escalante!"

"I have nothing to say to you, Jose Macias. I trusted you with my life savings!" Victoria trained the second gun on Macias and the leader of the horse thieves.

"Let me explain!" Jose was desperate. He wasn't a horse thief, but how could he get the Senorita to believe him?

"There's nothing to explain! Now I know what you're all about. And I'm taking you all in for horse stealing." Victoria was adamant.

The leader laughed. "You've got a lot of spirit, little lady. I like that. But tell me, how are you going to get all of us back to Los Angeles? We outnumber you."

Jose said, "He's right."

Victoria suddenly realized the predicament she was in. "Yes, well… If anyone tries to make a move, they'll get a pistol ball right between the eyes."

The leader smiled and said, "You haven't got the nerve."

Toronado whinnied. Zorro's voice came out of nowhere, "_Trust_ me, Senor, she _has_ the _nerve_!"

The leader unsheathed his sword.

Zorro replied, "I'd be _delighted_ to cross swords with you, however…" He brought Toronado closer. Toronado reared back and knocked the sword out of the leader's hands. That angered the leader so much that he jumped up and knocked Zorro out of the saddle.

They both landed on their backs with a cry from Zorro as his leg absorbed shock from the fall. The leader immediately got up and picked up his sword. Zorro struggled to get up. He tried not to favor the right leg, but it hurt. Waves of pain, one after the other went through the leg. _I only hope I didn't re-break it._ _I don't think I did, but this sure didn't help_, he thought. Victoria was looking elsewhere, at the men and at Jose, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zorro grab his leg in obvious pain. There wasn't time to do anything about it – but it made her think. _Wait a minute_…she thought, but she was drawn into the action and had no more time to give thought to what she thought she saw.

Victoria took that opportunity to point her gun at Jose. "Don't move!"

Jose was desperate. "Please Senorita, you don't understand!"

The Leader said to Zorro, "The fight is _over_, Senor!" At that moment, another member dragged Jose's wife Julietta over. She uttered small cry of fear. A member of the gang held a knife to her throat.

Victoria was shocked, and lowered the pistol a short way. "Julietta!"

Jose said, "I was trying to protect my wife and children! The stolen horses were making the getaway difficult…."

Meanwhile, Zorro held his leg and grimaced. The fall had sent shockwaves of pain through his barely healed leg. He tried putting his weight on his left leg, which was situated on a small rise from the bottom of the canyon. He stood awkwardly, but tried to look casual.

Jose continued his explanation to Victoria. "…So I hid them in my corral. After you posted bail for me, I went home and discovered they had taken Julietta and the children. They left a note saying that if I didn't bring the stolen horses to their secret hideaway, I would never see my family again!"

Trying to hide his pain, Zorro said through gritted teeth, "Once again, we learn to presume a man's innocence until he's proven guilty."

Victoria apologized. "I'm sorry, Jose. It's just that all the evidence pointed towards you."

The Leader replied, "It is a waste of time! Throw down your weapons or the Macias woman dies! Muy pronto!"

Zorro's anger seeped out. His leg was throbbing now, and he needed to finish this. "Senor, you picked the _wrong_ _day_ to _try_ my _patience_!"

Zorro brandished his whip and disarmed the man who was holding the knife at Julietta's throat. Another crack of the whip and the leader's sword, which was Zorro's sword, came back to its owner. The leader picked up another sword, and the fight began.

_It's all in the footwork_, Zorro thought. _If I can keep moving, I can keep the weight off my leg for an extended period of time. _He landed a knockout punch with his left hand, and the leader was out for the count.

Victoria heard a three-part swish, and knew that the leader was getting Zorro's 'signature.' Then, she looked and saw someone behind him. Victoria cried, "Zorro, look out!" He whirled around to face the man who had held the knife. He now had a pistol, and pointed it just inches from Zorro's face. Victoria pointed her pistol and fired, hitting the man in the arm. In case that wasn't enough, Zorro landed another knockout punch.

Victoria looked very satisfied with herself. "A woman's work is never done!" A third bandit got up from the ground, and she clobbered him with the butt of her pistol.

Zorro gave her a wave-salute. As he did, the leader rose from the ground. "Behind you! Victoria warned. _He needs eyes in the back of his head_, she thought. _I guess today, I'm the eyes he needs_. _Besides, he looks like he hurt his ankle or his leg or something when he got knocked off Toronado_. _He seems to need all the help he can get – he doesn't seem to be his agile self today. Wait a minute – his leg? No…it can't be…can it? _She didn't have any more time to think, but was drawn into the action.

The leader threw a knife at Zorro. He knocked it away with his sword. Now unarmed, with no other weapons in sight, the leader ran off. Victoria looked down at the man on the ground, then to the Jose and his family, all together now. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Zorro limping back to Toronado. She took mental note of it, but her attention was elsewhere.

Victoria inquired to Jose whether he and his family were all right, to which they replied, "yes, gracias."

Now that he was back on Toronado, his weight was off the leg, and the pain started to subside. Zorro felt his expression return to normal.

Victoria looked at him and said, "I was right. He was innocent."

Zorro replied, "You saved my life. How can I ever repay you?" His breathing had also returned to normal.

Victoria quickly thought of a way. With a demure smile, she said, "You could start with a kiss."

Without thinking, he answered, "That would be my _utmost_ pleasure." But as he raised himself up in the saddle to dismount, he remembered how hard it would be, and didn't want to take the chance of her learning his identity. He wasn't sure how much she had already seen – and he knew it would be difficult and would hurt – so he decided to stay in the saddle. He wanted to avoid more pain. Being thrown ingloriously out of the saddle had caused the leg to ache and throb. _Sorry, Victoria. I'll make it up to you when I stop limping, _Zorro thought_._

"Uh…on second thought, I better chase that bandit, before he gets very far away." He gave her a small smile, then turned Toronado around and rode away.

Victoria looked slightly annoyed. _Uh-huh_, she thought. As Zorro rode away, she said aloud, "Isn't that _typical_?" She shook her head with a half-amused smile. "He'd rather be out chasing bandits." She did a double take to the Macias family, and smiling, went over to shake Jose's hand. In the back of her mind, an outrageous thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it.

_Zorro hurt his leg. Diego broke his leg. It's the same leg. Nah….it can't be, can it? _She'd had thoughts like this before, like when Diego quoted a line of poetry during their night's stay in the windmill, only to have Zorro 'misquote' the same line the very next day. And she lay in bed nights wondering why Diego, who was so forceful in Santa Paula, was so insipid the rest of the time. Oh true, she could remember a few, isolated incidents when Diego showed he could be a real de la Vega, like when he first came home from Spain, and when he attempted to fight Sir Miles Thackery, the snobbish and nasty English swordsman, but they were few and far between.

And another incident came to mind…when Alejandro came to the pueblo dressed as Zorro. At first, she seemed to think it was true, but as his execution came nearer, she kept looking out for 'her' Zorro, the strong, young man of vigor who she was in love with. And when he threw off the priestly robe disguise, her heart fluttered in her chest. _Yes! Yes! That's 'MY' Zorro! I'm so glad he came_, she thought. But the gnawing in the back of her mind…_where did Alejandro get the Zorro costume. How?_ She'd visited him in jail just hours before his execution, but couldn't get a straight answer from him.

Diego explained that he'd somehow hit his head, and that he'd been reading Cervantes' _Don Quixote_ at the time – and knowing that Zorro was the local equivalent to Don Quixote, he somehow managed to duplicate the costume and ride into the pueblo as Zorro. They decided to tell the people of the pueblo not to mention the incident to Don Alejandro – to save him from embarrassment. _But_, she thought, _the costume was real. Where could he have gotten it – in his condition – he must have had some kind of concussion. Where…unless…hmmmmmm._

Z

Because the leader was on foot, it didn't take Zorro long to catch up with him and guide him back to camp, where he handed the man over to Victoria and Jose. Because his leg still pained him, he said as little as possible, and made no attempt to dismount.

"Here you are Victoria, Jose. Please add this to the rest of your trophies and take them to the alcalde with my compliments! When you're on the same side, you two work well together!"

Zorro saluted her with his two-fingered wave, smiled, and rode off. Victoria harrumphed as she watched him go. _Isn't that just like him? One of these days, when I get my hands on him…I'm gonna make him talk to me for more than one minute!_

She remembered the cave and the day she spent there, and the dinner they'd had together like 'normal' people. She wished she could live that day over again…and this time, the alarm system in the cave would not go off…and she'd finally be able to put a face to her masked querido. She now felt she had some solid 'proof' to lend credence to her 'suspicions.'

TBC


	13. Chapter 13 Ordinary Heroes

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – Ordinary Heroes

When Zorro got back to the cave, Felipe was waiting for him. He signed in a questioning fashion, and when he heard what happened, he lent support so that Zorro could slowly and gingerly slip out of the saddle. Zorro was very frustrated. His leg had been feeling so much better – now it _hurt_ again! Unfortunately, Felipe was usually the one who got the brunt of Zorro's frustration. But Felipe was used to it, knowing it helped Zorro process things in his mind, and he needed to vent his anger.

"The man _threw_ himself at me after I disarmed him, and caught me by surprise! There was nothing I could do! I'm just glad Victoria didn't see me limping around, or she would have guessed my identity immediately! At least – I don't _think_ she saw me. She didn't _act_ like she saw me."

He changed into his street clothes and limped back up through the Library to sit awhile and propped his leg up on pillows while he stretched out on the couch. The pain finally diminished after a couple of hours.

**Z**

Later that day, Diego limped across the plaza from the tavern to the fountain. He had decided to try walking without the cane, as it only slowed him down – and it _was_ too short. He felt like he waddled rather than walked when he used it. But he didn't want to get another one. He walked to the fountain, just as the Alcalde, Alejandro and their group of lancers rode and walked into the pueblo. He couldn't wait to hear what the official search party had to say. He knew their efforts were fruitless.

"Buenos Dias, Father! Senores! What happened?" Diego waved. After resting his leg for a couple of hours, the pain had greatly diminished, and he could walk on it – limping of course, but faster than with his father's too-short cane.

Alejandro answered, "What _didn't_ happen to us, Diego? We just came back from San Bernardino." He was hot, tired, and very hungry, but he knew how important it was to wind down a moment – especially taking care of his horse.

Mendoza had been on foot the whole time. His feet were tired and he was starved. He interjected, "Through the scorching desert heat. It was terrible Don Diego!"

Alejandro continued. "When we got there, the people there hadn't heard or seen the bandidos for months!"

Mendoza's lament continued. "Flies, rattlesnakes…"

De Soto could stand no more. "Oh, stop your _whining_, Sergeant!"

"…Big fat locusts, too! Ay Chihuahua, I am so hungry…I am starving…" Mendoza looked to the alcalde to get permission to leave, but it wasn't given. De Soto shook his head. He was tired and hungry, too. They all were. But as they were cooling the horses down, De Soto knew they were going to have to wait another couple of minutes before taking care of themselves.

"But Alcalde, I've been on my feet all day, while you were on horseback." Mendoza continued his complaint.

"Sergeant, what is the first thing a soldier learns?" De Soto looked disgusted at Mendoza's apparent lack of perseverance.

"Why, to march, of course. But Alcalde, I have been marching all day, and I am tired and hungry." Mendoza tried his puppy dog eyes look, but De Soto would have none of it.

"Oh, just get a drink of water from the fountain, Sergeant. If you're really thirsty, water will suffice." De Soto rolled his eyes and his head went with them. He couldn't believe he was saddled with such imcomptence.

Alejandro said, "Diego, I think we can say goodbye to our horses."

De Soto said, "And I think we can say the same for Jose Macias."

Diego's attention was drawn to something behind his father and the alcalde. "Let's not be so _quick_ to jump to conclusions!" Lately, sometimes, his 'milder Zorro' voice (that which he used when he wanted to project his voice) would creep in to his speech, but no one seemed to notice.

Alejandro & De Soto turned to look in the direction of the entrance to the pueblo. Victoria led a small procession as she drove a cart into the plaza with Julietta, the two children, with three horses tied to the back. Jose brought up the rear as he followed behind the three horse thieves who were tied to their horses.

"Who on _earth_ are those men?" asked De Soto, in a sort of quiet, confused, and tired way. He was exhausted too, but he wasn't about to let anyone know it.

Diego exclaimed, "Victoria! We were _worried_ about you! I saw you ride past the hacienda this morning like you were on your way to a fire!"

Victoria drove the wagon a bit closer before stopping. She didn't have a chance now to look closely at Diego, but she promised herself she would get a much closer look later. "Oh, there was no need to _worry_, Don Diego! And by the way, Don Alejandro, your horses are back safely in your corral."

"Well that's marvelous, Victoria! But _how_?" Alejandro was patting his horse's nose, holding the reigns. Everyone was resting a moment before going their separate ways.

Victoria indicated the three men tied to their horses behind the wagon. "Alcalde, _these_ are the men who are responsible for the robbery. And, Jose Macias helped me to apprehend them and bring them back to you!"

"He did _what_?" De Soto was skeptical. He was tired, but stood by his horse a moment. He couldn't believe they had wasted the whole day riding to San Bernardino and back with any results, only to have the local tavern owner and the suspected horse thief himself bring in three bandidos.

Diego interjected, "Apparently, you arrested the wrong man, Alcalde. Again. It really is a habit you should try to break." He tried not to sound superior or sarcastic, but he couldn't help himself.

Victoria said with conviction. "And now I would like my bail money back, if you please."

"Very well." De Soto said. He was so tired from his fruitless search, he didn't argue. Unbelievable, he thought. He thought a moment, and was about to ask a question, but Sergeant Mendoza beat him to the punch, so to speak.

Mendoza was incredulous. He asked, "Senorita Escalante, it's impossible! You and Jose captured all these horses?" Mendoza then cupped his hand in the fountain and took a drink of water. It was cool and refreshing. It made him smile in anticipation of some of Victoria's enchiladas he hoped he would be eating within the next hour or so.

Victoria looked at Jose, and they shared a smile of knowing. Diego saw the look, and since he knew what happened, even though he couldn't say he knew, he acted as if it was observation alone that told him what he was about to say.

"Well…" Diego stated, "I think she may have had a little _help_, Sergeant…from a _friend_." Everyone looked at the back of the horse thieves' vests. All three had Zs slashed into them. Everyone knew what that meant. Zorro.

De Soto thought…_hmmmm. So The Fox is riding again…and he's embarrassing me again by doing my job for me…One of these days, when I get my hands on him…I can't wait to see him hang_.

Diego continued. "So, Jose, apparently you won't be needing my – uh – legal expertise." Diego had offered to be Jose's lawyer, but when he went to visit Jose, the farm was deserted. No one was around. Diego now knew it was because Jose's family had been taken hostage to ensure his cooperation with the horse thieves.

Jose replied, "No Amigo. Zorro already came to my defense." He chuckled at the pun. So did everyone else.

Alejandro said, "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel like a long, cool lemonade."

Diego replied, "A splendid idea. Have one on me, Father." As he started to move, he cried out in surprised pain. "Oh!" and limped towards the tavern. Only when he moved did it hurt – and after being knocked off Toronado, it hurt a lot worse than it had for a couple of weeks. He only slightly heard the sarcastic comments that were directed at him, but chose to ignore them. _I know it will take both of them time to undo the habits of five years. I have already decided I won't take offense anymore. I know who I am and what I'm about._

_Ever since I gave my 'little speech' to Father, our relationship has been much better_, Diego thought. There may come a day when I can share more with Father, and when we are free, with Victoria…but for now…

Victoria, looking from the wagon, saw and heard Diego's exclamation of surprise pain, and without thinking, felt she just had to make a snide remark.

"Now if that were _Zorro_, he wouldn't be such a _baby_ about a broken leg." She turned to Julietta and smiled. Julietta smiled back.

Alejandro had to get his dig in. "If _Zorro_ had broken his leg, the pueblo of Los Angeles would be the one to suffer." Victoria smiled about that. _I didn't compare him, not directly_, Alejandro thought. But something inside him told him it was important to keep up the façade in public. He still had his suspicions about Diego, but this latest crisis had left him precious little time to think about them.

As she got down from the wagon, Victoria remembered what she thought had seen from the corner of her eye earlier, and all her thoughts came raging back. It felt the same as when she and Diego had returned from Santa Paula and Zorro had delivered bandits. He'd used poetry that time. "Huh? No – it can't be…can it?" She shook her head, but until she talked with Diego, she wouldn't know for sure.

Z

After supper that evening, Alejandro sat at his desk in the drawing room, when all of a sudden, the hair on the back of his neck went up and goose bumps appeared on his arms as he remembered a dream from last night. And it wasn't the first time he'd had that same dream.

_Alejandro dreamt of very dark clouds and a severe storm coming his way…a black tornado that came and threatened to demolish his hacienda, with himself inside. Diego was also in the dream, and as Alejandro watched, the storm threatened him as well. The storm had come out of nowhere and raged full force once it started. Wave after wave of wind and rain beat against the hacienda. A window broke as he looked out – the tornado was almost upon him._

_He'd woken up in a cold sweat, wondering what the dream meant. He knew it couldn't be good._

The dream unnerved him. He'd been feeling a little strange ever since the horses were stolen, as if it were some sort of portent or sign. He hadn't felt this kind of inner alarm for a very long time…probably since he felt strongly he should write to Diego and ask him to come home from the University.

And now, even though Diego was on the mend and the horses were back in the stable after Victoria and Jose had retrieved them, Alejandro had a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that this was mild compared to what was about to happen. As he tried to 'see' in his mind's eye what lay ahead, all he could see were the dark clouds from his dream, but he didn't know why.

_Diego also gets these 'premonitions' sometimes_, he thought. _Maybe I'll say something to him tomorrow and see what he thinks_.

But when he awoke in the morning, he thought, _it's just an old man's panic_. _I must be imagining things_. He forgot to say anything about it, as ranch business took all his time for the next three days, and he didn't really have a chance to talk more than a few minutes with Diego each day.

Z

Victoria was also busy the next three days at the tavern. Diego hadn't come into town and she wondered about what she'd seen, what she thought she'd seen, and what she would say to Diego when she saw him again.

If Zorro was hurt in that fall from Toronado, he's probably lying low again. He seems to do that from time to time. But the only person who could have told Zorro about what I was doing, was Diego. He said he saw her riding by the hacienda. He had to have told Zorro, because Zorro came so quickly.

Two thoughts struck her simultaneously…1) Diego _knows_ who Zorro is; 2) OR Diego _is_ Zorro. I'm going to have to get some answers from him – tomorrow.

TBC

Next up: Suspicions, premonitions & a new solidarity – and The End of this little tale…


	14. Chapter 14 Suspicions

A/N: Thanks all for reading! Thank you for all your reviews. My imagination was fueled in trying to put details to something the episode itself did not do. But that's why we're here – to fuel our imaginations and fill in the blanks – the way we think they should be filled in. I am of the sort that likes to stick to the original story as much as possible. After all, it was the story that sparked the imagination! I'm not as much into AU – but I do like to embellish – as I did here, and in Palomarez. Next up: Siege II – an original story based after the series is over, but sort of a sequel to the episode 'Siege.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Suspicions

The next day, Diego's leg was sore and painful. He ran his hand down his leg where the break had been, and knew he hadn't re-broken it from his fall off Toronado, but it hurt. He decided to rest it as much as possible all day. He again sat in the Library with his leg extended out on the floor rather than on the couch. That helped him to work on mobility with his knee.

He was nearing the end of _Ivanhoe_, and he couldn't wait to see how father and son resolved their differences. When he finally got to that part, he was rather surprised – and a little disappointed, although he could see why the author wrote it that way. It took intervention from the king to 'force' the father to forgive the son – as a favor in return for something the Black Knight (who was indeed King Richard) had done for Cedric the Saxon. As he read, Diego thought he could see between the lines. _Ah, it's a pride thing. The father's pride in not wanting to admit he might be wrong – not even for a moment. So the king 'forces' a reconciliation – something the father wanted but couldn't bring himself to swallow his pride and actually do_. But Ivanhoe sought his father's forgiveness in humility. Diego had also humbled himself last week when he spoke to his father. The parallels of this story to his own life never ceased to amaze him.

It was three more days before Diego sat a horse again. During that time, he rested the leg as much as possible and worked the ankle and knee to regain mobility. It was slow going in the ankle – the knee went much faster. Felipe helped, but in order to make progress, he had to 'force' the knee and ankle to move a bit farther than it wanted to. That caused pain, and Felipe hated to cause Diego more pain.

Diego encouraged him. "It's all right Felipe. It's part of the healing process. If I'm ever to ride as Zorro, or even walk without a limp again, I've got to develop full mobility. It may take a week or so before I'm back to 'normal' but I'm determined." He grimaced as Felipe 'forced' the ankle a bit farther, then worked it back and forth, then stretching it farther again, moving it back and forth. Then Diego would move the ankle and the knee himself as far as he could. It seemed like backbreaking work, even though he was sitting down while he did it.

Each stretch gained a little more range of motion. After about ten minutes, Diego began to get tired, even though all he did was to move a couple of joints an inch or so – to try to keep to the stretch Felipe had brought them to. He was panting from the pain of the last stretch.

Felipe stopped when there was knock on the door. He rose to answer it, and showed Victoria into the Library, then left for another part of the house. He couldn't very well go through the fireplace – although that's what he would have like to have done.

Diego rose to greet her. "Ah, Victoria, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Did you get your bail money back from the alcalde?"

"Diego, you look like you're really making progress. I brought you some of your favorite flan." She set the flan on the table near Diego, and spoke again.

"You're still walking without your cane, I see. How is your leg?"

Diego wiggled his ankle back and forth an inch or so, and bent his knee a couple of inches to show his progress. "I'm making progress. I still don't have full mobility yet, but we're working on it"

"Very good, Diego. And yes, the alcalde gave me my money back yesterday, finally."

Diego responded. "I'm so glad. I felt sorry for Sergeant Mendoza. He looked like he hadn't had anything to eat all day, and had been forced to march on foot."

"It's true. He did march all day in that hot sun, and he hadn't had very much to eat…so you can imagine how many enchiladas he ate for supper that night."

They both laughed at that, then Victoria looked at Diego with all sincerity. "Diego, there's something that's been bothering me."

Diego's expression turned serious. "What's that?"

"Well…this may seem a strange question to ask – but Diego – do you know who Zorro is?"

Diego's neck straightened and his head went back a couple inches in surprise. He gulped. "What makes you think _I_ would know who he is?"

Victoria looked him straight in the eye. "Diego, no one knew I was going after Jose Macias. No one except you…because you said you saw me. Yet, Zorro came to help capture the horse thieves. And I saw him – uh – fall from Toronado. And I know you have 'found him' before when you needed to..." She stopped a moment, considering how exactly she should finish the sentence.

Alarm bells went off in Diego's head. He didn't think anyone saw him after he fell off Toronado. He was concerned Victoria had seen him, but she hadn't indicated she had – until now.

"You saw Zorro…fall? And – uh – just for the record – _he_ – usually finds _me_." Diego had to be _very_ careful how he answered. _Watch what you say _came back to him full force.

Victoria thought a moment, then said, "I thought I saw him grab his leg as if he had hurt it."

Diego thought a moment before responding. "What happened?"

"He was knocked off Toronado by the leader of the horse thieves."

Diego let his breath out very slowly, so as not to show how relieved he felt. "Well, if he was knocked off his horse, he probably did hurt his leg."

Victoria wasn't ready to let it go just yet. "It seems to me to be too much of a coincidence that you broke your leg, and Zorro fell off his horse and grabbed _his_ leg."

Diego chuckled nervously. "Well Victoria, there are any number of explanations for that. Why don't you ask _him_?"

Victoria's irritation began to show through. "I _would_, if I ever got to spend more than a _minute_ with him, alone or otherwise! And Diego, you never answered my question!"

Diego pretended he'd forgotten the question. "What question was that again?"

"Do you know who Zorro is?"

"Oh, that question. Let me ask you one. Do _you_ know who Zorro is?"

"Now, Diego, don't answer a question with another question! It's rude!"

Diego smirked. "I'll answer your question, if you answer mine."

"Ohhh! Diego de la Vega you frustrate me more than any other man alive – except for _Zorro_!" She growled in anger.

Diego could see she was beginning to lose her temper, and sought for a way to cool her off.

"Victoria, why did you ask me that question? I – I – will answer you, but I'd like to know why you thought I'd know." He asked her with as soft and gentle a voice as he could muster.

"Because…I – I think you _do_ know."

**Z**

Alejandro had just returned from the range when he heard Victoria and Diego talking in the Library. From the tone, he could tell the conversation was serious, so he stayed away, across the foyer in the drawing room, but what he accidently heard, surprised him. Why did Victoria think Diego knew who Zorro was? Interestingly, ever since Diego had come to him in the drawing room that night over a week ago, he'd been wondering some things himself. He decided to listen in on the conversation, but not get involved, so he remained where he was. He felt a little guilty, like he was spying on his son, but his curiosity got the better of him, so he listened in.

**Z**

"We're going around in circles. What do you think you _know?_" Diego asked.

"Well…I _don't_ know, that's why I'm asking _you_! And there you go again – answering a question with another question!" Victoria was trying to keep a lid on her temper, but Diego wasn't making it easy.

"Answer _my_ original question. Why _are_ you asking _me_?" He looked at her intently.

Victoria decided to go with her suspicions. "I'm asking you, because I think you know who Zorro is. I think you know Zorro as well you know yourself, because _you_ – _are_ – _him_!"

Knowing that was probably what was coming, Diego smirked. "What evidence do you have that _I_ might be Zorro?" Diego was inwardly enjoying this, although part of him was scared to death. _After all, the padre knew, the doctor knew_. _Maybe it would be all right if Victoria knew_. He'd almost told her that day in the cave. _If I felt comfortable enough_…but then his better judgment took over.

Z

Alejandro was listening intently. He'd snuck to the edge of the drawing room, behind the piano, with a stack of papers in hand in case one of the servants or Felipe came upon him unexpectedly. Since the bull fight, Alejandro had his own suspicions at one time or another. When Diego came to him that day to 'share' with him – without actually saying anything definite – although he was somewhat confused by it – Alejandro felt it confirmed _his_ suspicions, at least partially.

Z

Victoria gathered her thoughts. Some were still jumbled, some were just beginning to crystalize. "Evidence? You want _me_ to give you _evidence_ that you're _Zorro_? Very well – it's the poetry recitations, the emissary at Santa Paula, similar physical characteristics, your unexplained absences during crucial moments, this broken leg and Zorro's fall a couple days ago, the way you so _gracefully_ and _agilely_ distracted the bull in the plaza while staging 'clumsy' incidents like when you fought Miles Thackery, and your 'fall' from the ladder last Christmas…and the strange way you denigrate yourself – to draw suspicion away from yourself…what _more_ do you want?"

"It's all circumstantial, Victoria. Wouldn't hold up in a court of law." Diego was smiling.

"Who said I _want_ it to?" Victoria was pouting.

"Well, no one, but if you're going to make a case, you'll need more proof than that." Diego smiled to himself. _Her 'evidence' is compelling, but it's just suspicions. That's all she has_, he thought. _She's trying to get me to confess. I'm not going to. Not now. Not yet. _Yet, he was amused.

Victoria deflated a bit. "If you're _not_ Zorro yourself, I _still_ think you know who he _is_. You know I'm in love with him and I want to marry him. Please, tell me who he is." This time there was a desperate pleading in her voice.

Diego's expression softened. He wanted to tell her all. He really did. But he was still afraid of two things: 1) her safety; 2) her rejection. He thought a moment, then asked one more question.

"Victoria, why do you think Zorro has not told you who he is?" Diego was scrutinizing Victoria's face – for any reaction, response, or emotion.

Victoria looked at the floor, then replied, her head bobbing left to right, reflecting the sing-song tone of her voice in placation. "Because he said he's worried about my safety. He's trying to protect me."

Diego asked another question. "Could there be any other reason?" Victoria looked up and now she scrutinized _his_ face…for any reaction, response or emotion.

"He once told me he was afraid I couldn't love the man behind the mask."

Diego nodded. "What is your answer?"

The way he said it totally unnerved her – like déjà vu. She shook her head a moment at the memory. She'd heard that question being asked her before in the very same way. She was sure of it. When Zorro had asked her to marry him…

"I told him the courage and passion of Zorro lives in his heart. That I loved the _man_ behind the mask and not the legend."

"Do you – love him? Really? Even if he were – an ordinary man like me?" Diego's eyes bored into Victoria.

"I _do_ love him. I don't care _who_ he is, I love him and I want to marry him, _whoever_ he is – even if he is – _you_! And he is _not_ ordinary!" Her gaze began to wilt under his.

Diego gulped at that, but kept his resolve. "One more thing to think about, Victoria: the man behind the mask _is_ an ordinary man, Victoria. He is not perfect. He has faults. He gets hurt. He feels pain, both physical _and_ emotional. He is not a shadow, or a legend, or a ghost. He is a _man_. That's all I can tell you now. I've already said too much."

Victoria nodded. One last look at Diego showed her that she was right, but he was not going to admit it, and there was no way she could prove it or make him tell her if he didn't want to – not unless Zorro was standing before her and she could rip off the mask herself. And he obviously didn't want to tell her – at least not yet. But his gaze was like an arrow that shot right into her heart. All of a sudden, all the unkind things she had ever said aloud to his face, even the most recent – or behind his back – came back to haunt her. She felt embarrassed and ashamed. She needed to leave to sort out her thoughts. But she would talk about this with Diego again – and soon.

"Thank you for talking with me Diego. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I'm – sorry – about a lot of things I – I've said. Please excuse me now."

Diego saw her discomfort; it was almost as if he could read her thoughts. He stood up, limped over, smiled, and squeezed her arm in a friendly manner. It took all his resolve to not take her hand and kiss it. "It's all right, Victoria. I'll see you in the pueblo in a couple of days. And don't worry! I'm sure Zorro will clear things up for you in due time!"

**Z**

Alejandro waited a couple of minutes after Victoria left before he lumbered into the Library as if he had just returned from the range. He'd set the pile of papers in his hand back on the desk. Diego sat on the couch. Alejandro sat next to him.

"Hello son. Did I just see Victoria leaving?"

"Yes, Father. She wanted to talk with me about something."

Alejandro acted a little too enthusiastic, but he was nearly overcome with his own emotions as things came together in his mind. "Oh, that's wonderful. I hope you had a nice visit. I know I enjoyed _our_ visit last week. Thank you for sharing your heart with me, son – _really_ – I'm _very_ glad you did. It means a lot."

Alejandro paused a moment, then continued, but much more subdued. He had something very serious he needed to talk with Diego about – but how do explain premonitions? How do explain nebulous feelings from dreams? Alejandro put his hand on Diego's arm a moment, then withdrew it.

"Diego, I have to talk with you about something very serious. Ever since the accident, I've felt it was extremely important that you and I come to complete understanding with each other. I – I just have this feeling…do you ever get those? It's like a foreboding…a premonition – like something is about to happen…I'm not sure I can explain it."

Diego shivered violently as a sudden chill enveloped him. He turned toward Alejandro and spoke slowly, as thoughts and feelings began to invade his consciousness. "You know Father, now that you say it – I – I – feel it too. It's a very _strange_ feeling. I don't like it."

Alejandro felt goose bumps appear on his arm. "Son, I believe this is very important. I believe you and I need to make sure there will be no misunderstanding between us. It feels like the calm before a severe storm. It's eerie. I can't explain it any other way. I've felt it for several days now, but I was waiting for the right time to say something."

Diego's inner radar went up. A sense of foreboding came upon him too. "Father, you're right. We need to stay close. I'm in agreement with you. This _is_ very important. I didn't feel it until just now when you said something, but now that you did – I feel it in a very strong way. We must remain close and work out any disagreements we might have _immediately_. And our trust for each other must remain firm and unshakable. It feels like an attack is coming, but it's so nebulous, I can't put my finger on it."

Alejandro stepped close to his son, and grasped him by the upper arms, then drew him into a hug. As they drew apart, with both sets of arms on the other's, Alejandro said, "We are _together_, my son. We stand united as de la Vegas. _Nothing_ must divide us, Diego. _Nothing_ must separate us. _Nothing_."

"_Nothing_, Father. _Nothing_."

**Z**

Two weeks later, the ship from Spain docked in San Pedro. Special Emissary Don Gilberto Risendo, his assistant, Lieutenant Julian Hidalgo and their company of soldiers disembarked, and began the last leg of their trip to Los Angeles.

THE END


End file.
